Shades of Yellow and Grey
by FanGrrrl6966
Summary: A story of Sandor and Sansa. If you're looking for her to be weak or him to be brutal all the time this isn't the story for you. If you seek canon, again, look elsewhere. If you want a story based on GRRM ASoIaF characters, hop on & enjoy the ride ! This Story starts 20 years into their marriage. Many thanks to the actors who bring them to life ! Long live GRRM !
1. Shades of Yellow and Grey Chapter I

**~Welcome~**, to the adventure in my mind, this storey begins 20 years into the marriage of Sandor & Sansa...I have tried to make the read a little easier as a couple of you have complained of the, " Whiplash ", effect of reading this story. I will remind you all I AM NOT a writer. I do this because it is fun & makes me happy. I will slowly be going through the chapters & editing as best as I can, if anyone would like to consider being a BETA for this story, please message me.

****Sansa****

It seems only yesterday I was the frightened maiden, my hair that coppery hue my Tully side was known for, that caught the suns rays in shimmers and flashes. Long, lean, willowy with creamy white skin and the pale eyes of my father the color of the sky on a bright summers day. My looks the blending of both noble and ancient houses but what I'm grateful for the most, besides my Lord husband and Prince, I would say is the steel that lineage gave me. That helped me see my Lord husband for his true measure. That helped me survive the trials, treachery, wars, loss and our flight from Kings Landing and our time across the sea, to the battles we fought on our return to Westeros.

He watches me still with those all seeing eyes. At once playful glint, knowing, loving and unabashed pride. His dark hair tinted with streaks of grey now, matching his plate armor and the great helm he once frequently wore. The crows feet around his beautiful eye earned from the years of worry and care of me, his Lady Wife and our proud brood.

****Sandor's Perspective****

As I watch my Lady wife and look back through the long years of our united life as if it were only days gone by. I remember the birth of our first. A strong healthy boy we call Ned. He has my dark hair but his mother's clear blue eyes. He surpasses even me in height but is still filling out. He took to sword play, war games and anything martial like a fish to water. I sometimes muse it must be not only my blood but his mother's aquatic side of Tully.

Our second child also a boy who is the spitting image of his late uncle Robb and named thus. He is an introspective and quiet young man with his nose perpetually in dusty scrolls and ancient books. He practices in the yard with the master at arms ad upon occasion with me but I know he does this to please me. He is not the fighter his elder brother is. I know this and wonder when he will tell me of his yearning to go to The Citadel to forge his chain.

Next is Catelyn, Catey for short. She is her mother's image. All etiquette and grace. Though she has her mother's eyes at times I see an ancient wisdom there. It comforts me because even though I know her to be innocent she will never suffer the travails my sweet Lady wife has. She has her mother's steel, she is a child of the North. I will kill any man or beast that dare harm her or any of my flesh, with word or deed. Beasts...It is the ones that travel upon two legs must she be ever vigilant for. She is surprisingly good with a bow. Better still with knives. My girls will be safe even when I am gone.

Our fourth child is Jon, he is not built like his siblings. His eyes slant slightly, he is slow to learn and he did not speak for several years. His tongue, always moving seems too big for his mouth. His speech is sluggish and hard for outsiders to understand. However, music is his sword and shield. If I did not hear and see with my own eyes my special boys talent I would have thought them mad. Give him an instrument, any instrument and in a few hours time he will play without flaw any melody he has heard. He even emulates bird song on string and flute. He is imperfect but the Gods granted him a gift, he is flesh of my flesh and I love him.

Anjelae is our fifth. Rowdy and rambunctious she can give most men a run for their coin in hand to hand, I wonder if she is bitter that she looks more like me than her mother. Long of leg and broad shouldered with my deep dark eyes, hair long and unruly she is lethal with most bladed weapons. She seems content but I have seen the unspent tears over the years as Catey collects admirers from near and far while my sweet Anjelae looks on quietly. I wish for her a man that will see beyond her size and dowry to the wonderful, sheltered heart beneath.

Children six and seven were born of one birth. Merrydae and Maecha our pranksters duo. Maecha favors my looks without attaining the height while Marrydae has my sweet Lady Wife's flaming hair and my skin tone and eyes. They are inseparable and I swear they speak a secret language that only twins share. You will never see one without the other.

Our eighth child is Sandor named for me after much heated debate with my sweet wife. I didn't see fit to burden him with the name. Sansa, ever the calm in my storm would not relent on this. Have I mentioned my wife's steel ? From the first I lay eyes upon her when she was but a wisp of the woman she is now. She has had the power to command me in all things. Debate, I shake my head smiling to myself there is never any debate when it comes to matters of hearth and home as my wife rules with a loving grip upon my heart.

Child nine was stillborn, another little, precious girl. At my wife's request she was named even in death as Rosilae. My Lady wife was for a time inconsolable, then up she rose like a phoenix of lore after a few reflective days spent in her garden amid springs new life and our children. Roses surround her small grave. At my insistence she is buried in the sun instead of in the dark place of her forebears. It saddens me I never got to meet this little girl before death stole her, I held her mother as she held our girl, I sometimes come here to reflect.

Our tenth child is a round little girl with laughing eyes, dimpled cheeks that I adore and love to pinch when no one is looking. Her laughter like the sing song of the snow birds that grace the parapets of Winterfell. Her hair in bouncing curls a rich, deep auburn, eyes the grey of a gathering storm. Brandae is she called in honor of her uncle. She is my secret favorite, I think with a measure of guilt. I had heard other men speak of a change that seizes your heart and way of thinking once your woman gives you a daughter. All the things you have done to woman flesh takes on a new and sobering meaning when it could be your daughter at the hands of another.

Even after all our wedded years. After ten births. Our children, my wife, our life in a reborn land. It still confounds me why this perfect woman chose..._Me_. I am ugly I know. Fearsome to behold, a killer of men. I remember with shame inflamed cheeks and the copper taste of old blood in my mouth the time I told her that killing is a sweet thing. My lips crease into a frown and instantly it eases as I realize her eyes are upon me. I wonder what she sees, what she is thinking now.

****Sansa****

I watch my Lord husband through smiling eyes, in the span of a few minutes he smirks, has a far away look, worry marks his brow, runs his tongue over his teeth, shakes his head and smiles, squares his shoulders then for an instant he frowns.

I love him. With an all encompassing fire that sears me from the top of my head to my toes then flares at my center to nestle like molten rock in my women parts. I know I am not the maiden he fell in love with. My breasts sag, matron marks cover my belly and flanks and my backside seems to have broadened at some point. Was it the sixth pregnancy or seventh when this happened ? I wonder if he still hungers for me for love, lust and all things carnal or is it duty and honor that binds him to me still in the bed chamber ?

****Sandor****

When she looks at me with_ those_ eyes...My balls tighten and ache, my cock engorges, oozing small pearls of seed waiting for release. Her breasts are soft and pale, her nipples pink rosebuds that respond with the merest touch. Pretty, they draw up nice and taut, twin points made for my tongue, teeth and touch. The ass that she finally grew during the pregnancy of our sixth and seventh child fits perfectly in my hands. Nicely rounded I could spend hours or days watching her move about or even sleep as long as she is nude. She is still my _Little Bird_ and she is still perfect.

****Sansa****

I go to him as he pulls me tight into the warmth and safety of his arms. Still nicely muscled. It feels as though I'm being embraced by a huge warm pool in the hot springs, the heat he puts off. I nestle my face into the crook of his shoulder and jaw. He flinches slightly as it's on his scarred side but he relaxes almost as quickly. I stiffen as I think to myself how I wish for a thousand more cruel deaths for his monstrously brutish brother, that the Red Viper's poison laced spear hadn't found true, the days and nights he spent screaming in the bowels of the Red Keep would have gone on and on and on or... That he had actually died the first time.

****Sandor****

She tightens slightly to match my flinch. She does that every time she thinks of my long dead brother. I still harbor a small cold nugget of doubt. That someday I'll wake from this dream & find I'm still fucking sloppy whores in a drunken stupor, that my wife is married to another brute just as savage as Gregor only wearing a crown.

Enough of this ! The children are either with Maester Obyrt or men at arms or Septa Leonnai. Free, childless time with no pressing Affairs of State is rare in Winterfell and with that thought I scoop my beauty into my arms as she giggles like the woman~child I first met.

Up the steps, round and round we go to our bedchamber, she's still light as a lamb. I nudge the door closed with a knee as Sansa slides the bolt, we are experienced parents after all. I ease her slowly out of her woolen dress, two shades of grey it is with yellow ∧ black inserts & piping. She honors me always by wearing my meager House Clegane colors. One of many small kindnesses and courtesies my Lady Wife bestows upon me. I slip her silken small clothes off her hips, gracing her form with nips, kisses and darts of my tongue. As I reach the soft downy triangle of red on the path to her sex...I catch the scent of her excitement. All reason escapes my mind as my cock strains my breeches.

Sansa glides to my chair by the fireplace I cock my eyebrow in anticipation. She sits daintily in it's large expense and dangles one leg casually over an armrest and brings the other up to her chest slowly. Her glistening sex is there for me to see. She slides her lovely ass to the edge, then places the leg she had to her chest over the other armrest. She motions for me to come closer but doesn't let me touch her. She strips off my breeches slowly places moist kisses on my belly and thighs. Her hot breath stiffens my already throbbing cock further and she...Pushes me ...Away ?!

****Sansa****

I have to work quickly so he doesn't mistake my intent. I smile my best, bad girl smile as I push him gently away. I run my tongue slowly over my lips. His eyes widen as as I draw slow circles around my nipples bringing them to rigid attention. I knead my breasts, flick my nipple tips. He eyes me intently as I bring both legs up to my chest and trail fingers down my thighs. I toy with him and my sex, gliding my finger tips over my lips. My bud is swollen to bursting as I ease a finger inside me. Then two. I then concentrate on meeting my Lord Husband, My Lover, My Life's gaze. I pull him close and begin sucking his manhood. He's perfect. Tall, strong and true. With a " part " women would cry for and I'm sure more than a few have. I can never take him completely, he is too much. So I stroke his stones and shaft as I concentrate on gliding my tongue up n down and around the immense head. Small, milky beads of his seed issue forth.. I bring him as close as I can but withhold his release. His lips turn up in his crooked smile. I wonder why the mirror is moved from it's place by the wall...

****Sandor****

This glorious woman...Is...Mine. She makes me watch her pleasure herself but now it is my turn. I stand her up and I sit in the chair. I turn her around to face the mirror and glide that luscious wet depth of hers to the tip of my straining cock. I don't allow her it's full length. I toy with her by only letting her have a hand span of me. The scent of her need is heady and thick in my nose. I build a steady rhythm of slick, hungry desire. I hook my hands on her thighs and slowly lower her wetness on me further. She stares at the mirror on the scene played out upon it's face. As every inch I have to offer is embedded within her hot wetness. She bucks & thrashes I have her by her hips keep us in step. I reach around with my hand & rub her hot swollen bead of her core. I feel her tighten around me and know her pleasure is peaking. I drive myself deep into her with every thrust I knead her breasts, pinch their tips and am rewarded by her gasps, the fluttering of her insides as she comes hard for me, by me, on me. Only then after my woman is sated do I allow myself to fulfill my pleasure deep within the folds of my sweet, sweet, _little bird_.


	2. The Flight Chapter II

**Sansa**

" We have a two of hours till the children are done with their lessons my love ", she whispers, " Let's nap for awhile." As we drift silently to sleep I watch the rise and fall of her chest, it is my last sight before sleep wraps me too in it's embrace and I dream of a time long past...

**Sandor**

I stride with purpose and heavy steps to the bedchamber. She is not there and I take another pull of the wine skin to settle in the shadows to wait.

I haven't been there but a few moments when I hear the sound of light footfalls to the door. A slim wisp of a woman grown creeps through the entryway, closes the door with haste but soundlessly and slides the bolt.

She hasn't seen me yet and it's a wonder she hasn't smelled me. I reek of bitter wine, blood, gore, sweat and smoke from the green death of wildfire. Never in my life had I seen water afire as I had this night, when the Blackwater burned.

I rise up swiftly dagger drawn. She sees the movement out of the corner of her eye and gasps, before she can utter a sound I.." _WHAT_ am I doing ?!" I rage to myself inside. She is to be worshiped, protected, adored, I know I am unfit for the eldest daughter of Winterfell, " As a man I am not worthy but as a protector I can serve ! " I argue in my mind.

I search her face for something, anything to tell me what she feels. I've never been this close to her, she smells of sweetness, innocence, the sun and sweet roses. I see her search my face with eyes I've never seen, not with fear but relief ?!

" Come away with me I rasp." I plead with my eyes what my voice cannot utter for a few heartbeats. I find my voice and say to her, " I can keep you safe, I will take you North, I will take you to Winterfell or to Robb, come away with me. "

My _little bird_ has grown up in her time in King's Landing. She says not a word but nods slowly as she gathers things for the road...

**Sansa**

I slip into the shadow world of slumber on velvety wings and dream.

My mind races, the Hound once something frightening and ugly, to be avoided if possible was the only one that offered some measure of protection, advice and small kindnesses. A kerchief to dab away the blood with a gentleness that belied his size, ferocity and strength. A soiled cloak of the King's Guard to cover my immodest state my, "betrothed", put me in, in front of the whole court no less.

I walk swiftly to my rooms, close the door and slide the bolt in place. As I turn to decide what to do next I notice an unpleasant aroma. I am startled by movement out of the corner of my eye. My heart pounds nearly out of my chest as I think with a flood of relief as the shadow steps forward and rises to his full height and I see the familiar, scarred face of Sandor Clegane, " It's him, It's him. It's really him ! " He grunts a few words and the aroma of the sour wine on his breath near staggers me. I look at his shoulder, " Is that a..a..piece of a flesh stuck to his pauldron, I wonder with a queasy stomach ?! "

" Yes, Yes I will go with him, my savior, my protector, my one true friend ", I think silently to myself. I gather a brush, small clothes and search around in the trunk for heavier hose, a few woolen dresses, gloves, a heavy Northern cloak and boots. I looks at him plaintively before he understands. He turns around to give me privacy as I throw off the silk dress of the court. Sandor grabs two pillowcases and folds them neatly into small squares and grabs a discarded hose of mine then stuffs the bundles, one in each gauntlet.

**Sandor**

I hurry her along but am secretly proud of her choice in what she packed in the third pillow case. Soap, a brush, small clothes, hose, a dagger and a small, " Maester's Kit ", of medicinal herbs and ointments along with flint and steel. Leaving behind her dolls as those are impractical to my eye and was grateful she chose to do so on her own. I think with a twinge, she leaves behind her childhood as well and I hope she has the steel needed to survive what will surely be the ordeals yet to come.

As we hurry out of the Keep then onto the stables where Stranger stood, snorting and kicking the paddock door. Knowing by my urgent steps we ride this night. He is already saddled and supplied for the journey we were about to undertake.

_We_..Even if just as protector I will be near her everyday, for weeks. " Stop it! You're filthy, you stink of death and war and even on your best day you're still _ugly_. " " So stop toying with the idea she could ever see you as anything more then the killer _you_ are ", his mind screamed to him.

Off we went under the cover of night the only sounds after clearing King's Landing was the thunder of Stranger's hoof beats pounding out a tattoo of fury and speed.

I wonder what she is thinking now, has she ever even ridden a horse this fast ? I seemed to recall her Septa saying Sansa could ride a horse as well as Arya could sew. Oh well, it's not like any harm will come to her safely nestled between me and the saddles horn, besides it appears she has death grip on it...

**Sansa**

I hear the slappity, slap, slap of tiny feet that rouses me from sleep and a small voice calls out, " Mama, Dadii, let me in pweeeaaassse." It is our youngest, Brandi-love as I like to call her.

I rise from our bed as Sandor puts on his breeches and I throw a robe around me. As I open up the door in bounds not one but three of our children. In addition to our baby the twins skip in, hand in hand with wide smiles on their faces.

Brandae is Sandor's secret favorite I know. Anything her eyes see, that her tiny, chubby hands can grasp, Sandor indulges her with, not that any of our other children ever want for anything.

Now, I think to myself , what would be the best time and way to tell my Lord husband of our new addition to be coming in eight months ? He will be upset, my last pregnancy was difficult. The birth agonizing, unlike the previous ones. My labor for pregnancies one through eight were less than half a day. Brandi-Love's was nearly two days. I didn't recover as quickly either.

**Sandor**

I hear the patter of tiny pairs of feet slapping up the steps. I think about rising to answer it but Sansa gets up and puts on her robe to open the door to what will surely be two perhaps three of our children. I put my breeches on just in time to see my youngest child run with outstretched arms to wrap around my leg. The twins are close behind holding hands.

Brandae's tiny upturned face smiles the smile that melts me every time. I scoop her up and she gives a child's sloppy kiss on my bad side. "Does dadii's owie still hurt ?" She asks in her high pitched voice, while gently patting the scarring. It breaks me deep that this beautiful child is mine. I helped create her by doing what I love doing, making love to her mother. I am ugly, I know this but when my little girl looks at me she sees her dadii. Not a killer. Not a monster. Not the Prince consort to The Queen of the North, Lord Clegane, just Dadii.

I wonder if it is my imaginings or if my wife's scent is slightly off. She almost smells...Pregnant. It cannot be after her last gift that now lies nestled against my chest. Maester Obyrt, had said another such pregnancy could kill her. _Kill_ _her._ He schooled me in the rhythm of women's ways, of her moons blood cycle. When it was, " Safe ", to love her physically. For almost two years have I kept vigil to keep my sweet Sansa sated but safe.

I hear the heavy slow steps of the Septa as she mounts the stairs to our bedchamber. Ever proper she knocks and announces her self with a strong voice that belies her age." Your Graces ", she says." I have come for the girls, they need to wash up for evening meal." A young novice stands silently by her side.

I lower my youngest to the floor and off she scampers behind her sisters. All the children follow the requests of the Septa and Maester without question. The lesson's learned by my Lady wife in the former King's Landing all those years ago and of the harsh price Septa Mordane payed to grant her a few precious moments not forgotten.

" I am Septa Leonnai I have seen The Mad King, The Usurper, The War of the Five Kings, The Fall of the Bastard King, The War for the Realm and The Rise of The Queen of the North, I am the seventh child and the fifth daughter of a lowly hedge knight and I knew from a young age my calling was to serve. I am proud to have been chosen to instruct this Great House's Ladies. " I say to the novice by my side, " In time you too will serve this house to teach the next generation perhaps. "

**Sansa**

As the children follow the Septa down the stairs I go to close the door. I know I must turn to face my Lord husband. His face is not the the one I remember from today's passionate throes. He looks to me and swiftly crosses the distance between us in three long strides. He grasps me and pulls me close. Tips my chin upward with his finger and searches my face. In those eyes I have found solace, strength and a lasting love. I see something rarely seen there now.

Something I first saw in King's Landing when I hazardously thought to push the Bastard from the walk. I knew it not for what is was then, for I was still a foolish girl. It is Fear. He kisses me passionately his tongue probing every place in my mouth. His face seems to crumple from within. He knows.

**Sandor**

I have been there through eight pregnancies with my Lady Wife. I know my wife's scent and taste like I know my own Great Sword, I thought something was slightly off center this afternoon during our lovemaking. She is with child. A child that can kill her. _WHY,_ has she done this, knowing the potential risk it could carry for her ?!

**Sansa**

I love all my children dearly. I had so hoped for another boy child. I know from bitter memory that even a brood of boys does not ensure one will take up the father's... Or in this case, the mother's seat. Robb's intention of forging a chain ensures he will not sire children. My sweet forever child Jon will never take a woman to wife. That leaves only two son's to carry on not only the Northern Throne but their father's name as well. He must understand I do it for him, the North, our way of life.

**Sandor**

The acid taste of bile rises in my throat. The mere thought of existence without _my life_, my Queen and keeper of my heart brings to me the not oft visited territory of fear. I straighten and yell for the door _Queen's_ Guard to fetch the Keeper of Household. I hear the hurried steps of Gundr Winterfell. I know what I must do, keep her safe, keep her comfortable.

" Our bed chamber and all it's content are to be moved to the lower level, her Grace is _NOT_ to lift anything, I mean anything, heavier than an eating utensil or a cup of drink is that clear ", I say to Gundr ? " Yes M'Lord. " I think I may have spoken too harshly for the man's eyes near start from his head. He hurries off to round up more muscle to begin the move.

**Sansa**

I love my Sweet, Sweet Sandor. He is beyond doubt or reproach when he finds I am pregnant, a better more thoughtful and protective mate I could not ask for.

I am a little fearful myself. But this is the first time he has insisted we move our bedchamber at this early stage. I know and dread the talk we will have over this. He would never chastise me, not even in private but I see once more what I saw behind his eyes. Fear. My big, brave warrior fears for me.

Ah my love. My precious battle hardened man. Who would have thought when I first saw you open your Great Helm and set my eyes upon you, in the courtyard of Winterfell amid my now long dead parents, siblings and sweet ridiculous Arry, all elbows and knees with that pot helm rattling on her head. That the revulsion I felt when I saw your scarred face with your the Great Sword Bane strapped menacingly across your back that I was gazing at my future husband. That the pity and fear of you would change slowly over the next few years to a deep and lasting love.

I thought then I would marry a worthy and brave knight. Full of passion and love songs. His shining armor unmarred by close calls of hammer or blade as a true warrior's should. Such a foolish one was I then. I know now with unerring certainty that Realms are kept and built on the blood of heroes and villains. That my knight did come. Bloodied, battle worn but with a marred visage and a truly great and secret heart. This child must be a son.

**Sandor**

I wonder if she saw the fear in my eyes. I will face any threat with cold steel in my hand. I will slay any and all who dare encroach on the safety of my Queen. But this threat is from within, literally. It is with trepidation I face this news, I am glad that we will have another mouth to feed but at what cost ? The North is a hard land. It's people born with the crisp rush of cold in their veins. Let her steel bear her safely. I have failed her. It was my lust for her honey that undid two years of caution. One time did we have joined as one in two YEARS during her unsafe time.

It was thirty-two days ago...


	3. Old Habit Chapter III

*******This is an **_edited version_** of the original chapter. Adding a few words to make it flow more easily & adding punctuation where needed*******

****Sandor****

I was pleasuring her with teeth and tongue sucking gently on her hard little bud of womanhood. The taste of her flow bringing me to full and ardent attention. She twisted her tiny fingers in my hair and guided my mouth to her breasts. And what lovely breasts they are, creamy and soft with hard little tips. I suck and swirl, I knead her soft mounds, place gently bites all over her nipples, breasts and belly. I run my thumb over her engorged button, alternating between strokes and gentle pinches. She moves quickly to put me on my back and sucks my cock. She rides my thigh in rhythm to her ministrations, Lapping up the drops of my seed that seep before the flood. I close my eyes and enjoy her every movement over my throbbing head, feeling the crescendo of my pleasure near. Then she did it. She slid my cock into the sheath of her sex, I was weak, I could not throw her off as she enveloped around me contracting her muscles within to give me a true lovers embrace. The Queen of the North's back arched, pink points thrust skyward came hard on her Prince. My seed rushed forth to fill her crevices within. (..And plant the seed that will grow in her belly...That could kill her.)

I am hoping to my soul that we can get by this one indiscretion, let her moon blood flow let me keep her safe.

****Sansa****

My sweet, ever vigilant protector. After our last child was born and the amount of blood lost during that long delivery and the lengthy recovery time. I looked into the eyes of my Lord Husband and saw conviction there. Ever since, when the point of my cycle nears the time when a child may be conceived he pleasures me with tongue or thigh or fingers.

My heart secretly swells with pride over this fact. Even after long years of battle, Of a Realm hard won I command this man not with authority but with the love he bears me.

And I have used that love to gain that which I most desire, another child, just one more, oh please by the God's make it a boy.

****Sandor****

I know my little birds expressions. The ones on her private face, not the one the court sees. She is now wrestling with what she has done.

I look into his eyes. And confirm what he already knows. The next words out of his mouth shake me to my bones." Why ?!" He thunders," We have a Keep full of our children !"

" We only have two sons that will marry and sire children ", I whisper.

****Sandor****

" Nothing is worth your life, my, wife. " " You are a woman, mother to not only our children but mother to the Land of the North. " " You are Queen, Queen do you hear me, according to my counting we have seven viable heirs. " " I know it is your desire that our eldest sit the throne, that an Eddard Stark of Winterfell rule the North, by the mercy of the the Old God's and the New may it be so." " I know also that sometimes things do not go according to plan. "

****Sansa****

In stunned silence I cannot refute his statement. What have I done ? He is right. The Laws of the Land have changed. By the death of so many sons in the War of the Five Kings. The War for the Realm against the white walkers. Many house heads were now the the surviving daughters. By my hand on the parchment was this enacted into law. I have endangered not only my life but the the North in my folly. Our eldest will celebrate his twentieth name day in less than four months. A man grown tis true, five years older than my dear brother and former King of the North was when he marched to war as House Stark head and took a wife. But Ned is Ned, he confounds me with his dalliances. It is time he takes a wife.

Many things have changed. The lines have blurred between noble and base born. I saw with my own eyes nobility crumble into greed and deceit as evidenced by the murder of my Lady mother and Robb, by the now dead line of Frey's. I have seen the lowliest born rise to greatness. Half of my Lords that populate the North were born North of the Wall or are Dothraki. Three quarters of my knight's started out of low or base born status. A perfect example of a new Land is our own Captain Landon Winterfell. A foundling or base born person may take the name of the Keep they Serve. It tells all who hear their name that they are not only honorable but a valued member of the House they Serve. By ink to parchment it is documented. Only the House Head may grant this gift, it is kinder than Snow or Stone or Flowers. I see now through experience that it is as a man or woman does not their birth that speaks of their nobility or lack thereof.

****Sandor****

I pull her into my arms. As tears threaten to spill from my eyes. She must not see me weak. I am her rock, her prince, father to her children and her strong right arm. I guide her to the bureau to brush her hair. That glorious crown of copper that cascades from her head to the heart shape of her rump to touch upon the bench she now sits. She composes herself, rises to dress. She chooses a pale yellow dress. deeply cut at her breast, trimmed in black and dons a medium weight cape of Stark grey. The clasp is of our united Sigil the official Crest of The Queen and The North. It bears on one side the Direwolf of the Starks on a yellow background on the other side my Great Helm and now Sigil of House Clegane on a background of grey. Slashed through the center of our crest is black and white lines intertwined. By the God's she is beauty brought to life. She has never needed to paint her face as so many women are want to do. Her flawless skin with cheeks always showing the slightest of blush & rich full lips who's softness and pliability is my undoing.

****Sansa****

We are dressed and begin our decent to evening meal. My husband guides my elbow softly with his right hand while his left rests at my waist. I can see this will be a difficult pregnancy for us both.

I wonder if this evening will bring me courage to broach the subject of Anjelae's suitor. Landon, He was scrawny and lice infested when he first came to Winterfell. In the passing years he has grown strong and true. His back always ramrod straight his looks marred by battle, a cruel cut twists his face where it puckers the right side into a frown. But his eyes. His eyes tell me he loves her. I repeat in my head my argument for him to my Lord Husband. It is fortuitous that I am pregnant. Sandor will not wish to upset me...

****Sandor****

As we enter the Great Hall I see that Landon a newly made Captain is near my daughter. _MY_ daughter. A princess and Lady of Winterfell. An unease grows like a lump of clay in my belly. I have heard whispers of his love for my Anjelae. I hear also my Lady Wife is for this match. I know also I trust my Queen's judgement and feel she is rehearsing in her head her argument for this union. I see her eyes slide in his direction. I resign myself to my soon to be new son. I would not be her father the Fearsome Sandor the Hound Clegane If I didn't have words with him. Now. I lead my Sansa to her Seat at the table. I say only that I wish to talk to Landon and the meal should commence without us for the moment.

I stride to this pup and I meet his eyes. They do not lower. I bade him walk with me. When we are out of earshot I ask him his intentions.

****Landon****

" Only to honor and love her I say, I was homeless, nameless and dirty when I came to this Keep, I know not my own true age or the day of my birth. " " Maester Obyrt said I was perhaps five or six by my teeth but it could be more, starvation stunts the growth, luckily with warm food and a soft pallet in which to lay I have grown." " By the Queen's Command do all her people learn their letters and numbers, by my will I excelled in those things and more. " " I was trained as a warrior, by and for this House and Land and it was I who ferreted out the master of coin, Little Finger, tucked away across the sea kept safely by that fat obscenity Illyrio." " It was I who led the men after our captain was killed. We spirited him back to Westeros, to the North and I hope it is by my blade that his life flows out in spurts and gushes. "

****Sandor****

" What is it you think to say ", I ask the pup.

****Landon****

" That I hope I am granted my wish to be Little Finger's executioner."

****Sandor****

I glance at Landon. " It is not to be I say, it is the purview of her Grace to take his life and as her Lord Father once spoke." " The man who passes sentence should swing the blade, should it be any different if it is a woman that issues such an edict ? " " In this case methinks it will be a dagger through his lying, conniving heart."

****Landon****

" She is Queen, why would she sully her hands in such a manner ?! "

****Sandor****

" Because she is Queen, because she is the Late Eddard Stark's daughter, because steel is in her, because she has yet to ask or command to be done what she cannot or has not done herself." " You will learn that just because some men think of them as the weaker sex I am here to tell you that is a fallacy perpetrated by foolish and weak men." " Can you or I bleed for seven days and not die ? Yet every woman endures this with every cycle of the moon, there is hidden strength and mystery in all women, Landon, never forget that. "

" Do you love my daughter ? " " Will you be there for her in all ways, will you remain true to her and your vows ? " " I tell you now if you ever raise a hand to her I will kill you, if ever I hear of your faithlessness I will cut off your cock and stuff it down your lying, unfaithful throat and I will then drive Bane up your ass so far the steel slides between your teeth. " " Am I in any way unclear ? "

****Landon****

" I will love and honor her in all ways Your Grace, I would die before I would allow harm to come to her body or heart and I have loved her and no other since I first set eyes upon her. " "I have not known the touch of a woman. " " When I was scrawny and unfed I was given a place here, I have made myself into your image and I had hoped that if a Queen can love and marry an ugly man so too can a princess. If my heart and intentions were true. "

I blinked and swallowed back my surprise. Very few men had courage to call me ugly. _To... My... Face_. I know the sound of a lie. I can smell it as well and this man. For it is a man I see before me. Loves my little girl. All my years of worry that she would not find a man worthy of her and to think all this time he sleeps within the same walls. I wonder how long my Lady Wife has known this. I smile inwardly. My Sansa. Still after all this time she surprises me with her wisdom. I have one fret though. They are both virgins. My Sansa at least had my experience when I took her maidenhead. THAT, was traumatic enough and painful for both my Lady Wife and myself. It nearly destroyed me. The only time in my life I wished for a smaller cock. I must speak with my Little Bird so she may guide our Anjelae.

****Sansa****

It has been a half hour. Still no sign of them at the table. I think in my mind either I will have a new son or he lays on the grounds his life spilled out around him as his body cools. I watch our daughter pick at her food. I laugh inside at my Lord Husband. For all his battle lore that man is thick as the walls that surround us when it comes to affairs of the heart of others. Then in they stride.

I know my Lord Husband will grant me the right of announcing this. But I surprise him once again. " Husband, I believe you have something to say. "

I see that flash of pride in his dark eyes and his deep chest swells as well. He walks to our Anjelae and takes her hand in his but briefly before he places it in Landon's.

****Sandor****

" I, Lord Sandor Clegane, Prince Consort, Sworn Shield and the Strong Right Arm of Justice for Her Grace, Queen of the North, Sansa Stark ~ Clegane, my Lady Wife do announce before you that this man, Captain Landon of Winterfell takes our daughter, Princess Anjelae to wife. "

****Sansa****

The Hall erupts with congratulations and laughter_ AND_, he remembered the proper order of titles. There is hope for my big man after all ! Now... How to prod my husband into schooling our new son in the art of love. I know it will be painful for her to lose her maidenhead. The first time I saw tears in Sandor's eyes was when he took mine. I thought I had done something wrong. " No Little Bird, this has caused you pain but I promise it will get better ", I recall Sandor saying.

****Sandor****

I have practiced these words in my head for years. I see my Sansa's eyes widen but briefly as I recite our titles. I had thought I would say these words for our eldest Ned first though. Ned, he must take to wife and soon.

****Sansa****

Maester sends out the ravens with the announcement of the nuptials. In six weeks time they will take place. Long enough for all but Queen's Landing to arrive. Untrue, by dragon it's eight days flight. Danaerys The Queen of the South will attend undoubtedly along with her Lord Husband, the Prince Consort. As it should be, she would still be Queen of Quarth if not for Ser Barriston Slemy, Lord Tyrion and my Lord Husband.


	4. Chapter IV A Price, Cold as Winter

_*****Slight**_ editing, adding or subtracting words here & there & of course, _**punctuation**_,lol*******

I was once master of coin in King's Landing. Now I am but a prisoner. I have not been tortured or maltreated. That in itself is the true punishment. I can remember quite clearly being secreted along smuggler's routes in the belly of a ship with aid from that treacherous sea rat, " Lord Davos Seaworth ", former onion knight indeed, now Lord of the Isles, who's seat is Dragonstone.

When I was brought before the Queen my sweet Sansa stared at me with those eyes where once I saw promise now glared with, malice and the blue of ice. The Dog sat at her right hand, he who like a thief in the night stole into her bedchambers and spirited her away. From me ! from my plans ! If that fat sot of a former Ser hadn't gotten himself killed before leading her to me all this wouldn't be happening to me now.

I hold an ace up my sleeve though. That foundling that they named Landon, betrothed to the Princess Anjelae. He is no unknown, not to me. He is my bastard, Kaen Stone. I have plans to announce this once my sentence is passed. One final blow. I grin wildly like a fool.

" Before the charges are named against you before sentence is passed I have information to impart to you, Lord Petyr Baelish, I know your secret, my husband and I know your base born son that you maltreated, abused, starved of food & love." " Did you think my Lord Husband did not notice the shadow of your features cast on Landon's face ?! " " Yes, his NAME is LANDON WINTERFELL, yes, he will marry a Princess of Winterfell. " " I Queen of the North, Sansa Stark ~ Clegane, daughter of Lord Eddard Stark and Lady Catelyn Tully ~ Stark, do charge you with treason high and the murder of my parents and siblings, because one surely led to the other. "

I start to rise, as The Queen of the North's Strong Right Arm of Justice, it is I who announce the sentence and carry out the punishment but my Lady wife stills me with a glance.

I rise and in a firm clear voice say, " I sentence you Lord Petyr Baelish to death, to be carried out at high noon on the morrow and I also I strip you of your title, your lands, your gold you much coveted. "

Her words stagger me. When did she grow a spine ?! Gone was the quiet voice of my Sansa. Replaced by a she devil with her face. I am reduced to deranged laughter as all leave the hall, sweet Sansa, my Sansa I whisper as I gaze longingly after her womanly form.

A shadow falls over me. It is HIM. The thief in the night. My eyes drip venom at my enemy, the ugly cretin.

I squat to lower myself to his level but find I am still a head and a half above him. I snatch him by his matted hair and spew my own fury in his ear. " For the pain you have caused her I should kill you a hundred times over, instead I leave you with three things. "

" The first is this, she was _NEVER_ your Sansa ", as I slap him savagely open handed across his lying mouth. His teeth that remain after the strike protrude through his lips and his blood flows down his scrawny, hairless chest. The second is this as I kick him over onto his back and release my cock from my breeches, his eyes widened as he tries to scuttle away. " Only _YOU_ would think something that perverse and you had the temerity to call me, _Dog _!_"_

I feel the flow as I let the piss splatter his face and body he sputters as it enters his eyes and mouth. Sated I tuck my cock back into my breeches. The third and final blow. I say to him clearly, " Do you know the significance of The Queen announcing your sentence ? "

" It is her hand that will take your life as she is her Lord father's daughter and I have schooled my wife in the ways to slay a man the quick and the slow. " Unfortunately, because of her state, oh you don't know, then allow me tell you, another pup grows in her belly, of my flesh, bearing _my_ name. "

" Where was I, oh yes, your death I think will be slow, she lacks the strength to raise _Ice_ reformed over her head to take your head, so she will most likely use the dragon bone handled dagger, of _Valyrian Steel_, remember, the one that the assassin used the Bastard sent to kill Bran, the one you wrongly placed in Lord Tyrion's hand by your lying tongue. "

I direct the guards to drag him to the creek out of sight of the Keep make him bathe. "Take soap, I will not have my Lady wife's hands nor nose offended by filth." I watch with a smirk as the two guardsmen push him with spear butts, unwilling to lay hands on his fouled form.

I grin to myself as I go to find my Sansa. I stretch, my eyes zero in on a bit of color. It is my Queen, she had watched the entire exchange from the balcony and the smile was still on her lips.

I wonder if she knows the rumors of the two guardsmen. Neither my wife nor myself interject our noses into our households business in affairs of the bedchamber, even if the manner of the affair was personally repulsive. I think _Lord_ Baelysh will have a sore ass come the morrow.

As the sun crept slowly to it's daily apex a crowd gathers outside the walls of Winterfell. To the stone of execution. I am amazed by two sights. The first is the the Great Black Dragon, Drogon mastered only by the Queen of the South, Danaerys. I see her tiny white haired frame amid a cluster of her Dothraki, her Prince consort by her side. Now _THAT_ union had thrown all of Westeros on it's ear.

He waddles over to me in step with his dainty wife.

" Your Graces ", I hear the voice of my beloved, " To what do we owe the honor & pleasure ? "

" We come to see the execution of the traitor Baelysh. "

I see Sansa Stark ~ Clegane, The Queen of the North standing tall and proud next to her Lord Husband. When the three fugitives from Westeros met across the sea we were joined by a fourth and fifth. Between myself, Sandor, Ser Barriston Selmy, Sansa and my Queen we hatched a plan.

The second sight is the structure that lays next to the execution stone. It is rough hew wood. Made from two pieces shaped as a T. The prisoner is brought to his place of doom. I eye my wife to see if she has changed her mind. She stares straight ahead eyes intent on the wood thing on the ground.

The two guardsmen from yesterday roughly prod Baelysh between them, limping but clean. They lay him on the wood and bind his upper arms to the wood with rope. Then steps forward Gendry, he is master weapons maker to Winterfell. In one hand he carries four iron spikes. In the other his smiths hammer. He walks over to the prone former Lord then whispers something in his ear.

" My name is Gendry and this first spike is for my father ! "

I place the first spike on his left wrist two inches from his palm and strikes true the spike piercing flesh to be driven at least two inches into wood. The process is repeated on the remaining wrist and ankles.

My Lady Wife and Queen of the North cuts his pants off of him.

I speak softly to Baelysh, " I am Queen, I am of the North, I am my Lord Father's Daughter, I am come to you as Death little finger ", I hiss. I use the blade that once sought my brother Bran's life and spilled my Lady mother's blood.

I cut his pants from him and see the real reason he is called, " Little Finger." His small, shriveled manhood lying flaccid between his thighs. I see the jagged scar my uncle Brandon left on his pathetic and pasty frame, from collarbone to navel, would that he had died then.

I see the blood from his abused backside has trickled down his leg to dry. I think it is poetic justice this has befallen him. He thought nothing of trading the flesh of girls as young as ten and boys of eight. Let him feel it from the abused ones perspective.

I remember my husbands words. If you insist on using that blade go to his belly button, then 2 inches over. Slide the blade in carefully at an upward angle and wiggle it a bit to let the air in. Do not be frightened but his bowel no longer constrained will push out of the cut.

I do as my Lord husband has taught me and a ropy pinkish/grey coil pushes out from the cut. It does not stink, I know have not nicked the organ. He screams have ebbed to a mad gibbering.

The Guardsmen drag the cross over to a previously dug hole and settle the cross into it. And there the former Lord Baelysh will end his life. He offended the North and now the North shall take him.

As I gaze upon the man hanging from the T with my mismatched eyes. I grimace inwardly and remind myself to never raise the ire of the North. I wonder also how long it will be before night creatures come with setting sun to finish him. My unspoken question is answered as the Northern Queen's Consort speaks in his booming voice.

" Behold, former Lord and Master of Coin, Petyr Baelysh., his crime of Treason High and Murder faces the punishment he deserves, let nothing molest him and as such guards shall be posted through the days and nights until he expires of his wounding. "

And so passes Little Finger, Lord of Lies.


	5. Chapter V Southern Grace

I am Danaery's Storm Born, Queen of the South and Rider of Dragons and I am among friends. I look to my Lord Husband, Tyrion of House Lannister & his stunted form. He is ugly. I love him still.

I could not have picked someone less like my Moon and Stars. Where the Khal's skin was brown & sun kissed. Tyrion's is pale with stunted limbs & mismatched eyes. But I love him.

I go to pay my respects in the crypts of Winterfell. To brave Lord Eddard Stark. His honor killed him. The trust he placed in the worm now writhing on a T paid in full. I wonder what the dead would say now, a Lannister in their midst.

I hear soft sobbing and follow it to it's source. A round woman with a small child in tow. In another area of the underground maze is the place for the Honored Dead of Winterfell, non Starks. I see the placards side by side of father & son. Ser Rodrik & his brave but over matched son Jory Cassell. I hate that my brother took his life over a lie the worm spread.

I do not know what to say to the widow, for widow she must be. The man by her side turns his face to mine, he has the soft brown eyes of his father. His hair brown & wavy as was Jory's.

" My Lady I start, pray what is your name? "

" Yoryka Cassell and this is for _YOU _! " A flash of steel glints in the meager torch light.

From behind and to my right I hear the familiar snap of a Dothraki whip, it snakes out to strike the hand wielding the blade and stops the blades decent to my face.

" We must take her before the Queen ", my savior states, his black eyes glinting like chips of dragon glass in the light.

" And which pray tell, Queen would that be, my lavender eyed beauty or the Queen of the North ? " " To what end, her life would be forfeit, the hatred of my family and line a continuing threat. " " No I think not, instead you will speak not of this. " He tosses his purse to the widow. Gold of Westeros A dragon on one side a Direwolf on the obverse. Enough to feed, house and clothe her for the next several years if she's careful. It is blood money and as Lannister I still pay my debts.

She scurries away, both casting furtive glances behind until she and her son disappear around the bend.

" You let her live, will not they think you weak for doing so my Dothraki Kagal asks ? "

" I once burned tenthousand men alive on the Blackwater with wildfire, being weak is not in my forte, being ugly is, that I'm a half man does not me I am a half wit and the healing must continue. " " Now let's get out of this dank place and on to eats ad drinks, especially drinks. "

Where is that man of mine ? Why is it when we travel he is scarce to be found. He is not in his usual haunts. I searched the library, the Maester's domain and even went in search of the child scholar of Winterfell, Robb Clegane.

I start to panic when finally I see his unique gate followed closely by Kagal. I walk to meet him his eyes meet mine and I see something there in them that gives me pause.

" Have you come from the crypts I ask casually ? " " I have he says and I am happy to report that Lord Eddard Stark rests between his brother and sister still. "

" But his ghost still troubles you ? "

" No, his death still troubles me, it was needless and wasteful, what we could not do had we the battle lore and wisdom of Ned ", I think with no small amount of sadness.

" That is true but would Sansa and Sandor be as they are now had Lord Eddard not been murdered ? "

" Sandor is a savage adversary frighteningly fast and strong, even though he's seen almost fifty name days but his forte is combat training and rousting men to order, not the placement of troops. "

" Thankfully we have Lord Seaworth to guard our shores, we have Jaime at Queen's Landing and the might of Winterfell and House Clegane to the North and Shaga and the hill tribes to protect the Eastern ridge, not to mention Souzahn, who wards the Riverlands as well as the Tullys. "

House Bolton is no more the turncoat and his demented bastard spawn Ramsey dead in the ensuing War of the Realm against the white walkers. A new House Head resides and the Keep is renamed Bravenhal in honor of it's new Master, Dondyld Bravestar.

House Highgarden a shadow of it's former glory. I hear they still scheme to wed Margaery's welp to Winterfell's eldest, Prince Ned, I think with humor.

" If I know the Clegane's the likelihood of that happening is akin to me waking up tall, straight, strong and handsome. "

" You don't not need to be tall, straight and strong you have your mind, wit and me. "

Dany, my violet eyed beauty keeps me grounded. She is beautiful and still has a girlish quality to her even after eighteen years of wedded life. Even though she nears thirty-six years of age she could still pass for a woman of twenty-five.


	6. Chapter 6 Remember When

Our Keep is filling up with visitors from far and near. I am secretly grateful my Prince has moved our bedchambers to the lower level of the ground floor. It seemed that as soon as my pregnancy was confirmed my belly sprouted over night. Though to my calculations I am only seven weeks along it seems as though I'm more near 10 or 12 by the size of my expanding midriff.

Rest easy Your Grace, the more the children you have birthed the quicker the belly pops says Culla our kitchen mistress and if anyone knows about expanding bellies it would be a woman who has birthed fourteen of her own. I smile slightly to reassure her that her words were kind but I have seen the eyes of my Beloved, the Maester and others. The smiles and glances hide a small kernel of fear. Fear of what will become of the North, This House and of my beloved Sandor, should death take me. And I reminisce ...

We had ridden hard for days. My backside & thighs ached from the abuse of all night rides across the broad back of Stranger. My protector has taken to gently lifting me from the saddle after the first night of riding when I did it myself, in defiance of his suggestion he assist me and promptly landed flat on my sore rump because of numb legs that ignored my wish that they work properly.

Yes, he is gentle with me in all things & thoughtful to a fault. He offers me watered wine, it is in cup a battered thing and nondescript yet familiar. I notice also it's Arbor Gold though and sweet, I found it odd he would be carrying a skin of it as I knew from casual observation & whispers he preferred the bitter of any red to gold. Arbor Gold, I tried it once and remarked at it's flavor & said I much liked it during a friendly dinner with my Betrothed, the Hound standing silent vigil as the Sworn Shield of the then Prince.

Could it be he had remembered after almost a years time?

My Betrothed. From this day I swear to myself I will hence forth refer to him only as the Bastard. The thought of his name curdles my stomach. I thought Princes and Knights were a glory indeed. Once. Before Ser Meryn slapped me senseless at a command from the Bastard. Before I heard whispered rumors of Ser Loras & his dalliances with...With. MEN ! I asked Shae casually once if she thought Ser Loras was handsome. She replied , What does it matter he lays down with men.

We are in a secluded thicket nothing, not even a game trail in evidence. I drift slowly off to sleep after a meal of hard bread and cheese watching Sandor hone his dagger. The sckkch, sckkch of him sliding the blade over his whet stone hypnotic, my last sight is him stuffing his the whet stone in his carry bag.

I wake to see him with a large pile of cotton, from the cottonwood trees that surround us. I think it is an odd thing. I notice also he presents to me his good, unmarred side. And as the sun slides to the horizon we gather our bed rolls and pack for this nights ride.

This scene is repeated for several more daysand& each time I wake I see the left side of my Protector. I study his face as he goes about his daily tasks. Honing his blades, mending a bridle, oiling his mail & gathering more cotton from the wood. His mouth is oft turned up into a small smile and his good eye a soft warm brown in color and ...Kind ?! I notice his nose is imperfect it has a slight bump you cannot see if looking at him from face on. Not that a casual observer would see anything but his horrific scarring. His ear is perfectly formed. His beard is thick and luxurious on his left side I notice it is dark but runs to an almost red color around his mouth and cheeks and I like it.

We have been traveling on horseback for three weeks. My backside doesn't hurt near as much as the first two. I get up to relieve myself before my daily ritual of brushing my hair & washing my face. I go behind a bush to do my duty when I realize with horror I am bleeding. I quickly do my business and wad my stained small clothes on the ground. It is my moon blood. I start to cry. At first quietly then remembering the horrors I have suffered over the past year in King's Landing they mount to wracking sobs. I see his long shadow fall across me. I stop and try to wipe my tears away. I am A Stark of Winterfell and have steel in me.

He says not a word but gently nudges me with something in his hand. I take it thinking it's again a kerchief, only to wipe away a different kind of blood. I am mortified that he is seeing me in this state. He then walks away as silently as he came. I open the small bundle to find my soap, clean rag, fresh small clothes and a small package made from part of my pillow cases. A small tuft of cotton wood fuzz pokes out from a crudely stitched seam. I now this is. I had the same thing & kept them in a drawer in the privy room. It is for my time of bleeding only instead of silk with flawless stitching it is a pillow case cut into small pieces and sewed not by a seamstress' hand but that of a warrior.

I walk back to our small fire less camp & he has already packed our bedrolls. I see he has found berries to go with bits of jerked meat. I am ashamed and it still colors my pale cheeks. He turns to me and offers me a cup of water from a familiar battered cup. I thank him with down cast eyes and he says.

" You are a woman now and this is your curse. It is not shameful it is merely a fact of life."

If my cheeks were flushed before they burned now crimson.

A smile plays on my lips as I am back again in Winterfell & Queen of the North. I catch the long familiar scent of my Lord Husband as he hugs me from behind in those big, strong arms. I nestle into his broad chest and slip back into time...

I remember with clarity the first time I saw Sandor shirtless and much more. We had set up our little camp next to a small warm stream, Sandor followed it to a small hot spring. I can't tell you how wonderful it was to bathe in hot water. Sandor afforded me my privacy. Never close enough to be intrusive never far enough that not in four or five of his long strides could he not be there.

I had finished my glorious bath and went about preparing our meal of berries & more jerked I remembered I left my toilet items by the spring. I walked casually back and espied my Protector immersed in it to mid torso. I had never seen him with out most of his armor let alone shirtless. Point in fact the only man I had ever seen shirtless was that of my Lord Father & the pale, scrawny and hairless chests of my younger brothers.  
He was...Intriguing . His arms corded by thick muscle and covered with a down of dark hair. His broad chest was a mat of more thick black hair. He bore more scars from battles, crisscrossed on his shoulder and one wicked looking one set out in stark contrast on his chest. His face was relaxed.

I crouched there breathless. He is , is. Wonderful to behold. I was curious as to what lay beyond the water line. When, as if on cue he rose to step out of the spring. My eyes bulged my cheeks burned as I saw what I heard from whispers what makes a man, male. The heat rolled off him as steam because of the coolness of the falling night. He stood nude in all his glory. The hair on his belly continued to a mass of black curls at the juncture of his legs. His manhood seemed immense and I thought with horror I heard they get BIGGER in the heat of passion.

I was shocked at stirrings in my nether region a sensation foreign to me until this moment. Startled I fall back on my rump and his eyes snap with clarity to my hiding place as I say feebly, I fell. I think I see the trace of a smirk on his lips as I stumble to my feet mumbling blatant lies of apologies at my intrusion.

I'm standing there still flushed with heat when he appears fully clothed and armored to stride up to me.

" Girl, says he, there is no shame in curiosity." " Some day when you find your knight and he is worthy of you all mysteries of men and women will be revealed to you. "

I remember with sorrow my Lord Father saying something similar when I begged him to allow the betrothal of me to the Bastard. He too said someone worthy of me.

What is worthy ? A false knight who beds men while presenting a rose red in front of all at the tournament. A crowned monster. Does he have to be flawless in visage ? Can he not be an honest man. strong of conviction but imperfect ?

The gentle squeeze Sandor gives me brings me back to the bustle of our household.

Preparations for the upcoming nuptials foremost on everyone's mind. I glance down at the ring on my finger that reminds me and all who see it I am wedded. It is a rare metal like white gold but harder and heavier. Embedded in it are three stones. one diamond flanked by a ruby and a sapphire. My Lord Husband presented it to me in at the camp of my brother Robb, then King of the North. He told me then the white of the diamond is for my purity as his bride. The red of the ruby so that we always remember our passion the blue of the sapphire to remind us of the fealty of our vows. He wears it's mate on his on left hand.

I have something to show you as he walks me to our rooms. He bustles about in his trunk to produce a wooden box. As I open it a smile creeps upon my face. It is for Anjelae to wear for her wedding. I see it is yellow citrine not topaz. It is a necklace of the stones in intricate patterns with tear drop shaped citrines hanging from it in evenly spaced intervals. At it's center is our crest. My husband like a small boy with a new toy says look and turns our crest around to reveal tiny painted images of our soon to be wedded daughter and her intended.

A single tear traces down my cheek at the sentiment and thoughtfulness that courses through his big, brave heart.

I have something to show my husband too as I go to my standing closet. I fumble behind in the very back and withdraw her wedding cloak. It is of Stark grey wool with a pale yellow silk lining. Our Proud Crest embroidered on it's back. And a single large cabochon of citrine at it;s clasp. I wonder if this is the time to mention our eldest and his recalcitrance of not taking a woman to wife when Sandor grumbles that the eldest has not yet settled down to wedded bliss.

laugh out loud at his musing and simply say it appears as though our heir is already picked if they produce an heir of their own. In the New Westeros women can now inherit from the father or mother if there is no son or no son is fit to carry the line.

I hang the cloak back in it's secreted place and turn to find my husband sitting in his chair watching me. I go to him and he draws me close and leans forward to plant a kiss on my expanding belly. He places a large hand on it and rubs it lovingly. Despite his fearsome visage and reputation he is a tender mate and father.

As evidenced by the pounding of feet and the squeal of our baby. The clickety clack of large paws on stone follow her light steps. In she bounds to leap into her father's waiting arms to snuggle into his chest. She delights in petting the hair on his chest and remarks it's like Wuf her pet Direwolf. At mention of his name the great beast steps forward to nuzzle his ward. Her father and I both laugh at the joke unknown to her young years and of a name I always detested. I will kill I swear anyone who ever refers to my Sweet Sandor as dog again with malice or scorn in their tone.

Listen to me, yes I know I am pregnant now. The mood swings and so soon. I feel sorry for my mate and the coming months.

As I rummage about in my bureau drawers when something catches my husbands eye. He fingers the object a twinkle in his eyes. And he remembers.  
We had been traveling for three weeks. I had the parcel in my saddlebag. I knew her moon blood would begin in the next two days. One thing about being the Sworn Shield one was privy to all manner of information.

The way the Bastard and the Whore conspired to deflower the Stark girl sickened him. How they planned the wedding according to her moon bloods cycle so as to optimize the conception of the heir. The Bastard's sniveling over why he had to wed her at all. Enough his inner self says do your duty be her Protector nothing more she finds you repulsive because you are ugly.

Her sobs alert me to her need of him. Sword drawn I quickly but quietly I get within ten feet of her and see her soiled small clothes crumpled next to her. I turns on my toes to retrieve her parcel. I have been working on her parcel for weeks. Gathering the cotton wood fluff. I am is no seamstress I lament as I look at my crooked stitches. It is the thought that counts and chastises myself for not making her pack something she really needed.

I come up silently behind her to nudge her gently and place the parcel in her hand. I walk quickly away knowing she is embarrassed. I busy myself getting their things together he saw bush laden with berries I goes to pick them hoping that might take her mind of her shame.

I offer her water and ever the well mannered woman she is becoming thanks me..Then I tell her not to be ashamed that it's part of life. I blink...Where the hell did that come from ?!

I come back to the here and now to find my daughter precariously standing on my thigh. I readjust her because the last times she stepped on my stones.

My cocked eyebrow alerts my Lady Wife something is on my mind. She raises her own. Wife, I say..Husband ? She responds. You should talk to our daughter about the way of ...things...Things ? She mimics. You know. Know what ? Exasperated I place our now sleeping youngest on our bed. The way of things between a man and a woman on their wedding night blurt out.

I have to turn away and busy myself so he cannot see I am almost to tears with humor. One thing about Sweet, Sweet Sandor when it comes to talking about " The way of things " he feels it is my duty to talk to children and more doing and less talking when it comes to us

.  
I remember when I questioned him on the road on one such thing in particular his face flushed a deep red to be replaced by him staring in fascination at an unseen ( to my eye ) bit of lint on his breeches that he picked incessantly at. From that point on anytime he told me to do something I didn't want to do I would ask him a question on " The way of things." Much to his chagrin I believe.

I will speak to our daughter but YOU will speak to our soon to be son. We should do it now.

In a moment I say. Do you remember the first question you asked of in that regard me on the road?

Yes I say. Tears threaten fall like jewels from my eyes and my shoulders bobble with poorly hidden snickers. ...Cock Kissing. Do you remember what I said? Why would anyone want to kiss a chicken? I turn to face My Sandor. I had no idea then it was an act of love. I say stroking the rising member in my Lord Husbands breeches.

I lead my lady wife to our solar And she deftly has me unlaced and my stiffened cock in her mouth before I've even closed the door. I lean back against it to brace myself for I know with my Queen's expert ministrations I will not last long. She strokes my stones with loving tenderness and runs her tongue down the length of my shaft then drags her fingernails lightly back up . Her tongue weaves circles around the head of my member. My stones gather to release the flood of seed that spews soon after and something that always amazed and thrilled me she swallows every bit.


	7. Chapter 7 Theft of Innocence

Hello, The following chapters deal with crime and punishment. A crime of violence against a child. In order not to shock or trigger a reader I want to forewarn you of this content.

I'm still laughing at Sandor's parting comment as I rinse my mouth and chew a mint sprig.

You should just go up to her and breath on her and make her smell your breath he said with eyes twinkling. I am Queen it's true but I pause and I wonder if all women suffer from their man's sense of humor.

I go out to the weapons yard and nod to Ser Syrio the tiny Braavosi beating a young man at arms with a wooden sword. It never ceases to amaze me his speed and accuracy all with the liquid grace of a cat. I wave a greeting to him he smiles back in between two hits to the bewildered young man.

I see my my girl practicing axe throws. Her Direwolf Ematta dozes steps away.

Mother she says as she wipes her sweaty brow. I motion for her to follow me into the Godswood. As I sit beneath the Heartree under same boughs my father and his father and so on down our line have sat I pat the root I'm sitting on for her join me there.

I wish to talk to her about your wedding night. I relate with misty eyes her father's and my wedding the ensuing days that followed. I go over the basics and a few other things. She sits quietly listening. When I finish I ask her if she has in questions. She looks to the ground and cannot meet my eyes. I am bewildered. Is something wrong ?

Do you remember that traveling minstrel Tagan of Trident? It was eight years ago. I was in the paddocks brushing out my mare when he came up from behind me and...

My heart lurches. I swallow my rising gorge. She was only nine! I grab her and hold her close my tears mingle with hers. I hate to ask this question but I must. Does Landon know ?

Yes, He was the first and only one I told. After...After. it happened. I didn't know what " it " was then. I told him he grabbed me and hurt me.

Why didn't you say something to me or your father ?! I thought I would get into trouble. When we got older Landon and I figured out what " it " was. He hurts when I hurt Mother. He will kill him if ever he sees him again.

He's not the only one I think with an ache in my heart. My baby. Not even in the Keep of Winterfell did I prevent this. I am so sorry Anjelae.

Will you tell Father ?

Yes.

I find my Lord Husband and he rushes to my side when he sees my tear stained eyes search mine as he places a protective hand on my belly. Wife ? I ask him this..At what age did Anjelae take up arms training in earnest? He seems taken aback by my question but answers without pause. Nine. I walk quickly back to the Godswood with her father in tow. I relate to Sandor what befell our girl, within our walls as we walk. What is his name her he asks in a husky whisper. Tagan.

Tagan? Tagan of Trident ?!

Yes.

Why?

He is one of the musicians coming to Winterfell for the wedding. Why would he dare show his face back here after raping my little girl ? He may have thought she was one of the help. She was brushing out a horse... So he thinks because she may have been low born it was OKAY to hurt a child ?! We return together, to our daughter.

I will kill him Sandor says. I will beat him to half to death then I will kill him slow. He envelopes his daughter in a protective embrace, stroking the long tangle of her hair. I know my Lord Husband as I know my own hand. The pain and barely contained fury that alternates in waves in his dark eyes is almost palpable. As most over fifteen name days know. Sandor Clegane is lethal. I have seen his savage grace on more than one occasion and I know with certainty Tagan of Trident will breath his last within these walls.

I go in search of Gundr to find out when the musicians will arrive. I see him directing the food stuffs to the kitchen And hear Culla's high pitched voice issuing instructions. I walk up to him and pull him to the side. I ask when Tagan of Trident will be here. He informs me he had arrived in the night three days passed. I ask where he is Gundr shrugs and explains he went off with Landon almost as soon as he arrived for a night of drinking and then a hunt. I make an unusual request of Gundr. He is to gather Ice and follow me to the Godswood.

There is only one place they could be . Away from prying eyes and deep enough in the Keep that the screams of thousands would go unheard. I go to find my Lord Husband as he will want to be there. I return to the Godswood with Gundr a few steps behind me bearing my Lord Father's Great Sword, the reformed Ice.

Gundr presents Ice to Sandor. I sit heavily on the root of the Heartree so we bookend our wounded child. She still rests her head on her father's shoulder, with his free hand he brushes her tears from her cheek with a heavily calloused hand.

Gundr looks on perplexed having never seen Anjelae cry since childhood. I instruct him to take her to her rooms and a guard detail be posted there.

I am Gundr WInterfell, I am a bastard but this is Winterfell and the land of the North in the New Westeros. Led by our good Queen, Sansa Stark ~ Clegane. I am Master of Household for Winterfell. I was born in the vale beneath the soaring heights of the Aerie while the honorable Jon Aryn was King Robert's Hand. The old ways would have dictated I never rise to this station but as I said this is the New Westeros and a man or woman may rise according to their want with hard work. and I KNOW someone has hurt our Princess Anjelae. And I have a good idea who it was. There is only one place in Winterfell where they might be.

I take her back through the practice yard and over to the barracks. I poke my head inside and point at four seasoned men at arms. Wardaen, Orlyn, Tarr & Aerik and tell them to armor up and to follow us. We are joined by the silent sentinel in the form of the immense Ematta, the Direwolf that adopted Princess Anjelae as her person.

As we reach the stair to the royal apartments I instruct Wardaen and Orlyn to remain at the foot of the stair and let no one unknown to them pass. Tarr and Aerik bring up the rear of our small entourage as we ascend to the rooms of the Princess. I lead her in ask if she needs anything a slight shake of the head is all her reply is. I go into her room and search it thoroughly before I shut her and Ematta in and instruct them to let no one but her parents, her siblings, Septa Leonnai the Maester or myself in.

I continue going to each room and search for anything amiss, satisfied I return to the lower level.

I then go on a hunt of mine own.

I am interrupted by the The Southern Queen and her Prince. What goes on here ask the dwarf. It is matters of Winterfell Your Grace.

That much is obvious, is there cause for alarm or can we help ?

Not knowing exactly what's happened I am at a loss for words.

Perhaps we should find Sandor and Sansa ourselves. Says the violet eyed Queen.

They are in the Godswood when last I saw I volunteer. I am going there now if you require a guide. And off we went. As we enter the wood the Queen and her Prince rise, North to greet South. I excuse myself and return to my self appointed task.

What goes on here say I staring with intensity from mismatched eyes.

Nothing we murmur in one voice.

Come now we are friends and have been for long years, I am betting someone has caused harm to the Princess Anjelae. Lest you forget she is our Child in Gods as I recall and if someone has caused a hurt to her she has caused a hurt to us as well. My Lord Husband is right Dany says. Tell us how we can help.

We relate the sad tale to our friends adding that we believed Anjelae's bride groom more than likely was killing him as we speak.

Tyrion's face twisted in rage. Dany reached out a comforting hand. Did you know Dragons have a keen sense of smell ? Can you get me something that Landon has worn or slept upon ? Wanting to make them feel needed I say yes let us go to the barracks. My husband leads and walks straight to the officer's quarters to a neatly made cot. Sandor flips the covers snatches the pillow and brings it to his nose. Gods be damned he snarls. It is cleaning day today this barracks has already been turned with new linens.

The tiny Queen of the South worms her way through to walk to a small inset closet. She opens the door to forage for something with Landon's scent. She waves a weathered boot in need of repair like a banner of victory.

Have you ever been around dragons ? Temperamental they are at times. I know. For a wedding gift Danaery's gave me an unhatched egg and bade me place it in the hearth under constant flame. I did an the next morning we woke to mewling of a newborn dragon. Sandor was not amused. But I was entranced. She and it was a she Dany confirmed was a pale yellow with silver tipped scales. She's in Queen's Landing now being bred to a red scaled male.

We clear the yards of the interior of Winterfell and Dany comes in atop the big black dragon Drogon. He lands lightly on the interior wall then glides to the main courtyard. Dany lands on the ground and rubs his under jaw with the handle of her whip. She presents the worn boot under his massive snout. He snuffles it. She speaks one word. Seek.

How will we know when or if he finds him. You will see is all she says.

He lifts his smoking snout to the air his nostrils flex and his sinuous neck ranges back and forth. He shambles to the older part of the Keep with careful shuffles that belie his size to a large moss covered boulder. It is shouldered by a large living tree and a long dead husk. After a few seconds he cranes his neck skyward and releases a bellow that rattled the teeth in my head. The Direwolves howl, horses neigh wildly and kick their stalls attempting to escape. Poor Sandor stands next to me hard pressed not to show his fear. Drogon lowers his head and noses the dead tree gently. I was right. Dany releases Drogon and bade him return to the dragon roost.

Once the dragon takes flight Winterfell returns to the bustle of activity that is normal but it's not quite right. We are joined by a growing contingency of people from the Keep. I see a baker, our weapons maker, washerwomen, men at arms, cooks, stable hands, potters, a weaver or two, serving women, maids, and field hands and more familiar faces and trades join them. They all carry weapons. By my edict ALL are trained that live within the walls in hand to hand combat and basic sword play, spear and bowman ship. Those that excel in one method of war are given further instruction in that weapon. Those that can master three or more are recruited to the barracks regardless of sex. I look to my husband for guidance.

I turn to face my people. as one they bow or curtsy as their sex deems and in one voice they say Your Graces'. Gendry seems to be the spokesman for the group. Beggin' your pardon but we are here to offer our support to Your Graces'. I walk amid my people with Sandor at my side. I wish I could embrace everyone of them en mass. Justice will be done I promise you. Is this Princess alright ? Where is she ?  
Will the culprit be tried ? What can we do ? Many questions from many mouths my head feels light and I sway slightly. Sandor scoops me up without question to take me to the Maester. hands touch the hem of my dress as we pass by I cannot help seeing the look of concern I see on each face we as make our way through the now large throng.

I hear Lord Tyrion's voice above the milling crowd. Good people of Winterfell your Queen requires a measure of rest. This situation will be addressed forthwith. Slowly the crowd disperses. I ask Sandor to post guards near the boulder to dissuade vigilantes. We have one to contend with already it seems.

After a brief stop off at the Maester's where he pronounced exhaustion and prescribed a tea blend to be taken before sleep. Sandor insisted on carrying me up the full length of the stairs, as we near Anjelae's room the guards tap their Spears butts on the stone floor in way of acknowledgment and we hear a raucous of noise from within.

My husband gently sets me down and knocks briskly on the door. It was opened by our baby Brandae. The sight that greets our eyes is thus. Anjelae is wresting with son Sandor, Catey has Robb in some kind of arm lock and it appears quite painful if the look on his face is any indication, Jon is bouncing on Ned with each decent he farts on him to the howls of laughter from the twins.

Our girl is smiling and that is all that matters. The Direwolves are bunched about the room in pairs except for Ematta who watches intently her mistresses battle. With all the bedding and if I'm any judge it appears as though a pillow was the only fatality by the spread of feathers on the floor. That and the feathers stuck to a jam smeared Branae.

Their father and I look at the scene and...Laugh. We both sit on the bed as all the children's Direwolves come to greet us. Ematta first, then Brandae's Wuf, Robb's Haecate, Catey's Grace, Jon's Big Dog, Merrydae's Vyserion, Maecha's Sweet and son Sandor's Swaen and finally Ned's Brute. Anjelae asks if we would like to camp out too and we agree, it's been too long since we had a family gathering such as this. I am tired and go to get my night things an my husbands modesty sleep wear.

Ned challenges his father to a wrestling bout and though he has leverage with longer limbs he still cannot match his father's strength. As things wind down we crawl into our daughters bed with her between us. We watch her sleep peacefully sandwiched between us. My Lord Husband stretches over her to lay a chaste kiss upon my lips and bade me goodnight. I look to see where the others are and smile to see our family together. Jon is curled up between Big Dog and his brother Ned. The twins are between Vyserion and Sweet. Robb is in a corner with Haecate and Brandae and Catey snuggle with their respective pets Wuf and Grace. I fill a slight pressure from the foot of the bed and peek to see Ematta one paw on the bed and her remaining large self on the chest at the foot of the bed. I pat the bed and she squirms the rest of herself at the foot of the bed.


	8. Chapter 8 One For All the Bonding

I sit in my room with Ematta and stroke her between her ears her broad head resting in my lap. Would that you were there then you could have torn him to pieces I say to her. There is a sharp rap on my door and I hear the voice of Aerik say clearly you have a guests who wishes entry. I go to the door and open it to find my youngest sibling with a plate of foods. It is clear she sampled some on the way up as jam smears her round face and her small chubby fingers are dusted with powdered sweet from the lemon cakes. I notice small bites taken from nearly all she brings except for the ones in the middle. I let her in and look up to see ALL of my siblings trying to cram into my room at once... With their Direwolves as well.

I stare mouth agape as they all bring some sort of bedding as well ?! All but the baby. My eldest brother Ned is bogged down with what appears to be several pillows and assorted blankets. Robb brings wine skins of hard cider, watered wine,and milk for the Jon and Branae. in addition to his bedding he has a book crammed up under is arm. Catey brings a tray of meats, cheeses, fruit butter honey and breads. Sweet Jon brings his mandolin and lute a blanket draped over his shoulders and pillow balanced precariously on his head. Merrydae and Maecha skip in one carrying blankets the other, pillows. Sandor brings a piece of wood and his carving tools in his shoulder sack and a tray with plates and drinking cups. Everyone sets down their burdens and her once neat room resembles a flop house.

All the children of Sansa and Sandor merge for a group hug. I look to Ned and Catey architects I am sure of this mini invasion. As Robb gathers the attention of the rest my two older siblings walk me to my bedchamber. What happened they say together. Something long ago. Who hurt you asks Ned. Please don't make me speak of it. He looks at me with an appraising eye and he and Catey hug me tight. Catey says remember when we used to camp out in each others rooms ? Ned and I thought it would be fun to do so again she says blue eyes bright with mischief. I'll be right back Ned says as he heads for the door.

He returns moments later with an ornately carved box, your wedding gift. He presents it to me and as all my siblings group around me he says it's form all of us. I open it to reveal a dagger. No ordinary dagger though. The handle is of bone bound by silver wire on the grip. But the blade...The blade is Valyrian Steel. The finest metal for weaponry in all the Realm. I notice an odd black inlay in the upper part of the blade. It's Dragon Glass. In case the steel won't down them Sandor offers. I love my brothers and sisters so much right now. Mother and Father have always given us a small stipend and we can earn more if we choose to do so. I know this is the combined earnings of them all for at least a year perhaps a bit more. Mother and Father helped too several siblings chorus.

After a brief stop off at the Maester's where he pronounced exhaustion and prescribed a tea blend to be taken before sleep. Sandor insisted on carrying me up the full length of the stairs, as we near Anjelae's room the guards tap their Spears butts on the stone floor in way of acknowledgment and we hear a raucous of noise from within.

My husband gently sets me down and knocks briskly on the door. It was opened by our baby Brandae. The sight that greets our eyes is thus. Anjelae is wresting with son Sandor, Catey has Robb in some kind of arm lock and it appears quite painful if the look on his face is any indication, Jon is bouncing on Ned with each decent he farts on him to the howls of laughter from the twins.

Our girl is smiling and that is all that matters. The Direwolves are bunched about the room in pairs except for Ematta who watches with intently her mistresses battle. With all the bedding and if I'm any judge it appears as though a pillow was the only fatality by the spread of feathers on the floor. That and the feathers stuck to a jam smeared Brandae.

Their father and I look at the scene and...Laugh. We both sit on the bed as all the children's Direwolves come to greet us. Ematta first, then Brandae's Wuf, Robb's Haecate, Catey's Grace, Jon's Big Dog, Merrydae's Vyserion, Maecha's Sweet and son Sandor's Swaen and finally Ned's Brute. Anjelae asks if we would like to cmap out too and we agree, it's been too long since we had a family gathering such as this. I am tired and go to get my night things an my husbands modesty sleep wear.

Ned challenges his father to a wrestling bout and though he has leverage with longer limbs he still cannot match his father's strength. As things wind down we crawl into our daughters bed with her between us. We watch her sleep peacefully sandwiched between us. My Lord Husband stretches over her to lay a chaste kiss upon my lips and bade me goodnight. I look to see where the others are and smile to see our family together. Jon is curled up between Big Dog and his brother Ned. The twins are between Vyserion and Sweet. Robb is in a corner with Haecate and Brandae and Catey snuggle with their respective pets Wuf and Grace. I feel a slight pressure from the foot of the bed and peek to see Ematta one paw on the bed and her remaining large self on the chest at the foot of the bed. I pat the bed and she squirms the rest of herself at the foot of the bed.

As I drift off to sleep to sound of Jon's loud snores with a smile on my face.

I wake the next morning to find a small sticky foot pressed to my cheek, at some point in the night Brandae crawled in bed with us to lay above our heads. Her small tousled head and an arm curled around her father's. I wonder out loud when she came to the bed. About five hours ago states my husband. I wonder how he knows this and before I can give voice to my query he says with a grimace, she stepped on my stones.

I do not know why she has something against them they did help give her life you know he says with mock anger.

We hear a knock at the door it is Gundr asking for entry. I rise as does Sandor and everyone else except for hard sleeping Brandae. As they rub sleep from their eyes Gundr says he must needs speak with my Lord Husband and I. Anjelae says if it is in regards to her she would like inclusion to the message. He looks to us. We look to each other then all eyes slide to Anjelae. I give curt nod of my head. Your Graces' , the Princess' attacker has been located. Captain Landon is questioning him now.

Questioning has many connotations and it can be light or harsh. I wonder in what state we will find this thief of innocence. We all rise and got to our respective rooms to change. I choose a dark grey dress, black slippers and the yellow of our crest cloak. Sweet Sandor mirrors my choice with a pale grey shirt open at the neck black leather breeches and high black boots. his black cloak hangs from his broad shoulders askew while he searches for a clasp. I go to him to straighten his cloak and he sweeps me in an embrace placing gentle kisses on my head and face.

Are you ready for this he asks grasping my shoulders. I nod. Then let's get this over with We go to the Boulder in the older part of of the Keep en mass every Clegane wearing either yellow or grey all black shod in some form of footwear. To be greeted by the sight of every person from yesterdays gathering a dozens more. They slept there...It is obvious by the blankets and braziers strewn about. They all rise and in one voice say Your Grace's, we have waited for you. I see Lord Tyrion and his wife the Southern Queen await are arrival as well. We go to the not so secret entrance and descend into it's murky depths. Leaving craning necks of our people above.

The rough hew stone steps are very difficult for Lord Tyrion to manage and Sandor gives him a look that brooks no argument and scoops him up and carries him. Tyrion says not a word but I think inside he is silently grateful as his Lady Wife has stated on more than one occasion that his knees and hips ail him some these past few years. Dany has an arm around my shoulders steadying me. Gundr leads with a sputtering, spitting torch. As we reach the bottom he goes straight to the far wall and pulls on the torch while stepping on an unremarkable stone in the floor that depresses. Machinations in the wall spring to life and a section of wall opens to reveal a room of questioning. It is brightly lit. On a table stripped and four pointed is the minstrel.. Landon leans casually against a wall unsurprised by our entrance.

Braziers burn in three of the four corners of the room. Instruments of questioning hang on the walls. Some lie glowing in braziers. There is not a mark on the thief to be found. I glare at him with a now evident fury. I snatch him but by his lank and greasy hair to spit in his face. How could you rape a child ?! Your grace he stutters nearly incoherently I , she, it was only a servants brat. At those words Sandor growls. It matters not whose child it was really, it was a CHILD ! If you can't find a woman of your own PAY for one. He leans in close the fact it was MY child will make your death all the more lingering. At that bit of information the thief pisses himself and starts to cry. I see an evil grin spread on my Lord Husbands face. Put some pants on him we bring him to punishment.

We climb the stairs, my husband careful to set Lord Tyrion down out of sight of the people so he can ascend the last few steps himself. As we come out into the old yard the people are still gathered. They make a path. Our daughter rushes forth to land a resounding slap on Tagan's face.

My Lord Husband says to the gathered throng. Behold. A thief of innocence. To Tagan he says, if you can make it to the end of this gathering, you may go on your way in peace. He takes a few tentative steps forward. Nothing moves. Not even the snow birds sing their song. The ravens are strangely quiet as well. Emboldened he stands a little straighter and sees he is almost half way through the throng. When he makes the half way point. They rush him. A scream, a gurgle, the sounds of ripping flesh, more strangled cries. And it is over. All shamble away one to return with a shovel and a wheeled barrow. he scoops the red mess into the barrow and trundles it away to the offal pits.

I muse to myself with small amount of humor that the thief is now leaving in pieces rather than peace and remind myself again to never raise the ire or offend the North as I take my violet eyed Queen's delicate hand. My stomach growls with protest at it's emptiness.  
He had offended the North and the North took him.

We walk as a family to the hall to tend the task of preparing a wedding. Our first for a child of ours. I notice with a happy heart Landon coaxes a smile from his bride to be. He shelters her to his chest raises her face up to his and plants a sweet kiss on her forehead. We go to our private hall to break our fast before final preparations . An outsider might find it odd we can eat after such a spectacle but this is the North and we have steel in us in all things. Lord Tyrion and his Lady Wife join us at the table which is round and of cotton wood, at my insistence. We can all see each other to speak instead of craning our necks.

It is Gundr who hurries in to announce the Dragons of the Southern Queen and Lord Tyrion's two children Sansa and Traenyr have alit and they will soon join us. The empty curse of the sheep people nothing more than venom spat words that held no weight. My name sake bounds in long of leg and a smile to break many a young man's heart. Her form is lithe breast high an tiny waist which flair out nicely and if not for the mismatched color of her eyes one would wonder her father's part in her making. She has her mother's silvery hair. Traenyr is long of leg as well his hair a cacophony of dark blonde curls with his mother's violet eyes.

My Lord Husband nudges me under the table and casts his eyes quickly to our wayward son Ned. His eyes follow every flounce and flutter of the Southern Princess. Sandor waggles his eyebrows and a small smile creeps onto my face. Our son nearly knocks his chair over to offer it to his ( ? ) Sansa she demurely accepts. He removes his plate ( I near fainted at THAT sight! ) and asks the serving woman to bring a plate of fruit and sweet breads with butter and black currant jam. You remembered! She says with a smile to melt ice.

Four sets of eyes bounce back and forth between all parents and our two children. It appears none of us were aware of this. Sansa ( his ? ) asks in a calm voice, so have you renounced your ways and are finally ready to take me as wife. Sandor's eye's near start from his head, Catey and I both near choke on our drink. Nothing moves or makes a sound it seems all of Winterfell waits with bated breath.


	9. Chapter 9 The Mysteries of

Our son blushes brightly and looks to Lord Tyrion who sit's grinning in his cups. Dany and Tyrion nod in concert. One moment says my Lord Husband. Should you marry the Southern Princess you give up all rights and claims to the Northern Throne and Winterfell. We have learned from bitter experience one person cannot effectively rule a land so large. Which is why the four of us decided to divide Westeros in half. With a Northern and Southern Rule. Take your time because what you decide cannot be undone.

Mother, Father, I love her. I have since we were children. I needed to get, get ...Things out of my system. I want to be a true and faithful husband. Good says Sandor evenly, because if I hear otherwise you will find my booted foot up your arse. The two new Intendeds hug fiercely.

So will this be a double wedding Anjelae asks brightly? Is it acceptable to you to share your day asks Dany? With my brother..ALWAYS! So it is settled, a double wedding within the walls of this great Keep. With that said we have preparations to make so let us attend to them.

I go to the kitchen to speak with Culla. She wields a spoon like a whip most days, using it direct, point, smack the fingers of those who attempt to nick a morsel here and there. Sometimes she even uses it to stir. Today is no different at the moment she is directing the gutting of fish to the left, proper bread kneading to the right and over her shoulder the mashing of potatoes..Add more cream boy! I see the preparations for Seven Surprise Succulent. A dove inside a chicken, inside a goose, inside a swan, inside a lamb,inside a boar inside a bull. Pastries of every description line the shelves. I smell smoking fish salmon, trout, perch and herring. Fruit from across the sea. Dany sent dragons to all points of the realm to gather rare spices, herbs specialties from all points.

She introduced me to a beverage called cacao in Myreen a rich brown drink. The beans can be ground then boiled add sweet to it for the delicious drink. grinding it very fine add sweet and rich butter cream for a divine coating to cakes or bisquits. I wanted desperately to grow these trees but it is too cold in the North, however Tyrion says he thinks it can be done with a building of glass panes on a wooden frame work if we divert another hot springs outlet through it. He has discussed it at length with the Maester and our Master Builder.

I go to the Gardener's to check on the floral displays that will be in each guests room. We have unique foliage in the north. Ice ferns are plentiful. Their lace fronds range from a pale blue hue to vivid red. Dewmists a lovely flower that grows in dainty clusters are silvery and delicate. Mothers Tears are a dark blue with a white burst of color at their center.

I then search out my soon to be wed ( finally ) eldest. I find him in the barn with his beloved their fingers intertwined. I see now with a small smile. Ned passion is horseflesh. He rides, trains and breeds crossbreeds the best stock. He has created a unique breed of Destery War Horse. Big boned, tall, sure footed, loyal, tireless and savage. The original sire was my Lord Husband's loyal mount Stranger. They run mostly Black's with an occasional Silver. A beauty of a mare was born seven years ago instead and of the black mane the silvers have she was born with a snow white mane and one blue eye.

My son trained this horse with love and care. A silver harness now adorns her. I feel almost an intruder. Sandor comes in to join us and has in his hand the small box I asked him to retrieve from my bureau. In it is a ring my Lady Mother oft wore. It has a lovely oval sapphire shouldered by two triangular blue topaz stones. They are in their own small world, it consists of only two. Sandor clears his throat and pulls them from their private revelry. They greet us with wide smiles and come to towards us. I have tears in my eyes and cannot seem to speak. My Prince presents our son with the box explaining it's providence. Our new daughter to be tears up as well as when our Ned shows her. This will be yours for all your days as a symbol of our union. That all who cast an eye upon it know you now and evermore as my wedded wife. I nearly fell over in a dead faint at our ( ? ) eldest's loving prose. My ever humorous husband leans in to whisper, he gets that from me and waggles his eyebrows. I am hard pressed not to kick him soundly on his shin at his joke.

I drift back to another poem or an attempt at a poem that is. After over three months on the road we had finally made it to Robb's camp. Butterflies ravaged my insides the closer we come. When we reached the first sentry point a runner was sent to the King in the North who rode up soon thereafter. With my mother not far behind. The two men eyed each other suspiciously for a moment and Robb spoke. How fares you sweet sister ? We're fine. There I said much with one word. The Hound has been my Protector and provider these past three months. Where I go so shall he I say defiantly to my shock and my Lady Mother's dismay. Long you have been away if you think to address your King or Mother in such a tone girl says my mother, her eyes never leaving Sandor's face. Come to the camp, BOTH of you says Robb as he wheels his mount around.

As we gain his tent the jaws of the men assembled inside collectively drop at the appearance of my escort. I would speak to my sister alone, Clegane. There is food or wine of you prefer. I don't drink he says but food would be welcome. After he departs the assembled Knights and Lords all speak at once each louder than the last trying to be heard. Enough my brother says in a tone that speaks with an authoritative timbre, when I said I wanted to speak to my sister alone I meant you as well as he waves an encompassing hand around the tent. As the men file out in twos and threes each casting a backwards glance darting between Robb, our Lady Mother and I. Are you harmed they together query. Has he..He..damaged you in any way. No I say. He has been kind and gentlemanly in all things and ways. The shock from my mother was evident by how high her eyebrows rose on her forehead. Robb's lips purse and he holds my eyes and asks of me one question...

Do you love him ? I lower my eyes then raise them and say one word. Yes. I didn't see Sandor behind me as I said this My Lady Mother wrings her hand and crosses the distance to put her hands firmly on my shoulders with a slight shake. Sansa! You are the eldest daughter of Winterfell. He isn't even a Knight for goodness sake! I know. then I relate the beatings at the hands of " knights " of the King's Guard's. In particular Ser Meryn. Exasperated my mother glares at Sandor a throws angry words, Well...What do you have to say for yourself ?! I have done nothing wrong My Lady. What have you done to my Sansa she shrieks ?! She looks to Robb...Well ? Well what Mother.. Clegane , do you love my sister ? Without lowering his eyes and in his gravely voice he says, Yes. I forbid this my Mother whispers in a quavering voice. You cannot I say Robb is our house head now and King. I look to him near tears. You will provide for her ? It is obvious you can keep her safe since all of Westeros has been searching for the both of you. this is no casual dalliance Clegane. She's a true born Lady. Honor her. Until I draw my last breath shall I he says

Robb, you can marry us as King I plead. Marry my Mother is with us once again back from her shock to rail again against us. You're barely fourteen years old...How old are you Clegane Mother asks him. I'm twenty-eight. Twice her age ?! Mother, Robb interjects.. Jon Aryn was thirty YEARS your sister's elder he says pinching the bridge of his nose with a gloved thumb and fore finger. Sansa, you are young, marriage is not a game. It is for life. If this is you being rebellious say so now. this man has said he loves you. Do you know what that means... Yes, it's small kindnesses. It is wiping blood from my lip after a beating from a knight, it is advice on how to stay alive at court, it is spending many hours sewing crooked stitches in something I needed desperately. It is killing a man who tried to attack me in one of the few towns we dared stop briefly in for supplies.

Dare I ask if you've a ring my mother asks with resignation in her tone. Sandor pulls a small bag form around his neck on a braided leather thong. He opens it to reveal a ring of a silver metal. Embedded on it' face is three stones. Mother, do you have stones to match hers...So the smith looked at my ring and said... This metal what is it exactly. It is called platinum. It is rare metal I was told says my soon to be husband. Aye, it is. I have a piece myself. It requires great heat to melt it and is difficult to form. In two days time his ring was ready. My brother Robb pays him well for his quick work. I looked at Sandor's ring and this becomes a real for me.

I espy my intended feeding Stranger. As I approach him he looks at me and blurts out why didn't to tell me you loved me before ? How long have you had my ring I counter... It was a dream that I could make you mine. I am ugly I know. And you're so beautiful. And I am soon to be yours in all...Ways I whisper. He pulls me to him and I nestle against his broad chest. This is my safe harbor. This is the other half of me I realize with a sudden finality. He strokes my hair gently and I lose myself in the warm brown pools of his eyes full of promise... Of things to come of dreams yet to be realized. We hear the approach of several people that brings us out of our revelry .

It is my mother and Sandor Clegane he says as he draws his sword. I know this is not your wont but my Lady Mother badgered me for days that you were at least knighted. Take a knee. My Sandor is bewildered for an instant I am mortified and stand defiantly in front of my Love. Robb says simply, I have granted you your wish to take this man as your Lord and Husband do you think I would challenge him now ? Sandor gently moves me aside and takes a knee. Robb brings his sword down on Sandor's shoulder and says, In the name of the Old God's, In the name Winterfell and by my right as the King of the North do I name thee a Knight. Stand and be recognized Ser Sandor Clegane. A moves forward and anoints him with seven oils. May the blessings of the Seven guide thy sword hand to mete the King's Justice.

Are you two ready asks Robb. Sandor clasps my small hand in his. We are. Then let us get to it then. Do you Ser Sandor Clegane take Lady Sansa Stark of Winterfell to to be your Lady Wife, To love her honor and provide for her all your days from this day till you draw your last breath. I do promise. Robbs eyes shift to me, Do you Lady Sansa Stark of Winterfell take this man, Ser Sandor Clegane of House Clegane as your Lord and Husband, to honor and love him, to provide him heirs, to comfort and obey him in all things. I do promise. With those words are we wedded.

I suppose you will be taking your rights now as her Lord Husband my mother slings as a way of congratulations. My new husband meets my mothers eyes and in an even tone simply says. At a time of her choosing, when SHE comes to ME. I have never forced her to do anything and I am not about to start at this time though it would be within my right to do so. I see something in mother's eyes. She is casting an appraising eye, nods slightly an takes her leave of us.

The night is fast approaching and with it my growing trepidation. I remember with vivid scenes in my mind of my now Lord Husbands manhood. And it gets BIGGER I think with a cold lump in my throat. I seek out my Lady Mother. She lifts her face from her writings. Mother, I am afraid, what,what do I do this night.

With pursed lips she rises and closes the gap between us to hold me in a fierce and protective embrace. She looks into my eyes and says child. It will be wonderful and terrifying and I am sorry to say, somewhat painful for you until you can accommodate your husband. There is no magic or medicine to make it better. You will bleed. You will not die. And if his height is any indication of what makes him male... He will be larger than other men. Relax, I know now though I do not enjoy the words in my mouth, I know he loves you, trust in him relax and enjoy what you can. She gently brushes a stray strand of hair from my face. She goes to her traveling chest and withdraws a small thing wrapped in doe skin. As she unfurls the corners to reveal a ring I have oft seen her wear. It has an oval sapphire a deep blue, for the color of my eyes your father said and the blue topaz abutting the sapphire represent the waters of the river Trident my first home. I want you to have this in case...In case what? In case we don't have time later she quickly finishes.

The night falls after a plain but filling hot meal my Lord Husband gently takes my hand in his huge mailed fist and places a tender kisses on my finger tips. He leads me to our tent and closes the flaps behind us. The only light within is from glowing braziers. Privacy screens line the wall of our tent. A steaming bath sits on the far wall. I recognize the bed that now graces our small temporary home. The pawed feet of it and the Stark Direwolf of our banner carved in relief on the headboard. Your mother was insistent that on this night at least your head lay here on this bed.

. I turn to Sandor and bade him sit, As I work the buckles and bindings of his armor, never realizing the intricacies of this part of a man's world. With the metal plate bits removed I work on his mail, then the boiled leather, I muse an armored man is like onion with so many layers. I finally reach the last after easing him out of a quilt padded surcoat. The linen shirt is non descrip and beige in color with the stains of sweat in evidence around it. I pull it gently over his head.

I kneel to reach his boots and he grasps my hands gently and says he can manage. He eases his boots off and pulls his stockings off and stands. I reach for the lacing's of his breeches when he stops my progress once more. You do not have to do this. Do it for love the of me not duty as my wedded wife he says slowly and clearly.


	10. Chapter 10 Men and Women Revealed

I look into those eyes of his. I noticed about two months ago I stopped seeing his scarring. Both of his eyes are a beautiful shade of brown. They show the soul contained within. He is nothing if not multifaceted. I have seen a tenderness that belies his size and repute, I have seen a bravery when he interceded against his brother at the tourney. I have seen savagery beyond imaginings if he thinks another intends harm to me.

I say in my own true voice. I love you, I have for more than a year by my estimation. I knew it not for what it was though until our time together alone these past three months. Though I am frightened I come to you as Wife. I want you as Husband. I know it will hurt it is as my Lady Mother said, but that you love me it will be bearable and I will survive. With that we embrace. My face pressed to his hair covered chest, I hear the beating of a mighty heart within. This is my Lord Husband. He will make me his in all ways this night. Through blood and pain will I rise on the morrow a woman in all ways but motherhood.

I watch in quiet awe, that the girl I first cast eyes upon and Loved for so long is now a woman grown and my wedded Lady Wife. She strips me of all my layers with deft and nibble fingers. Though i yearn for this to my core I want my wife come to me willing. I give her one last respite and choice. She looks in to me with those wonderful blue eyes. They are a clear as a cloudless sky. There has never been even a shadow of ugliness in their depths, not even at the abuse she has suffered not even when that Bastard watched in glee as her Lord Father lost his noble head.

I lead my lady wife to our bath. It's only half filled. ease her out of her grey woolen dress. She turns to face me with wide eyes. I undo the lacing's of her girdle and pay no heed when it slips to the floor. I remove her final layer to watch the pink tips of her breasts pucker in the air.I lower myself to remover her silken small clothes taking in the red wispy hair leading to that which makes her woman. Taking in the purity of her scent.

She moves her fingers that tremble slightly to undo the laces of my breeches once done they slide to the ground and I step out of them. My member rises unbidden and her eyes widen. I pull her to me for our first kiss as man and lips are softer than I imagined and mold to mine. She tentatively darts a tongue in my mouth then eases into a thorough exploration of my mouth. Her taste is sweet as dew the scent of her bound hair intoxicating. I lift her and step into the tub. I must break our kiss to her down and facing me. The water rises precariously once my mass is within it. I lift her foot and place it on my shoulder tracing patterns on the flesh of her calf. Followed by kisses. I scrub her already clean feet one at a time. She relaxes by degrees. I feel her foot explore my legs to nestle on my chest. I scrub her back and front and step out of the cooling water. I stand her up and watch her nipples tighten into perfect peaks once again. I dry her off and lead her to our marital bed.

She lays down with wide eyes and I take in her beauty inch by glorious inch. she is perfection given life. I lay beside her my head resting in my hand my arm bent. I trace her side slowly and rub her creamy skin gently. Her nipples once more stand up and I gently take her nearest one in my mouth to toy with teeth and tongue. I am rewarded by her pressing into me and a slow roll of her hips. I take her remaining breast in my hand to knead it slowly gentle pinches on her already hardened nipple. I rollover spread her legs so I can administer both hands to her breasts and hard buds of their tips.

I place licks and kisses and nibbles on her hip bones and belly A slow rhythm seizes her moving hips. My kisses grace her inner thigh. The closer I get to her core the sweeter her scent. I lower my hands to raise her legs and place one over each of my shoulders. Then return to my ministrations of her lovely breasts. My tongue moves slowly to her swollen bud. Her sex is slippery with her juices. The pure smell of her making the throbbing of my stiff cock near unbearable. I take her core and suck gently. Her back arches and she presses her sex to my waiting breathing slightly changes to quicken. I want to taste every part of her I can reach, work my tongue inside her folds to her avid delight. Her juices near run out of her she is so...WET.. I place a finger and toy with her opening while flicking a rapid tattoo of passion on her hardened sex, I am careful not to deflower her my finger that glory will be bestowed by a thrust of my hard cock within her. She near bucks with pleasure at the workings of my tongue. I can wait no more I rise to my knees and place the head of my cock at her bud to rub it with my head her breath becomes slightly ragged and I know her come is near. As she climaxes I thrust into her wetness whilst rubbing her button the spasms of her inner self envelope my cock in a hot wet embrace she shudders as her climax waves as I still gently pinch and rub her button.

She then does something that takes me off guard.

With me still embedded within her she pulls herself up to hold me and slides further on me. Her sudden intake of breath makes me fear for her and I try back her off. She clutches at me tightly and starts an uneven rhythm on me. I am lost. I replace her unsteady thrusts with urgent ones of my own. My full length and breadth is in my Sweet Sansa a warm sanctuary. As long as we both shall live I will never know another woman's touch or taste. My passion builds to a crescendo and with one final thrust I spill my long pent up seed within her warmth. As my seed issues forth her nails dig furrows in the meat of my back. I pull her closer , hold her tighter trying to meld us into one flesh. I raise her face to mine and see the tracks of her tears. My previous elation dies and falls like ash to my feet. I feel the burn of held back tears of my own. I curse myself for being bruitish. and remove myself slowly from her and lay her gently on her back careful to place her back on the white linen of our first bedding.. I walk quickly to my carry bag to fsih a small vial the Maester gave me out of it. I go to the table laden with uneaten fruits and sweets to pour my Little Bird a three quarters full cup of wine and top the remainder with water. I put two careful drops into the mix and hurry to give it to my Lady Wife. I bid her drink it all quickly. The medicine works it's magic and soon she drifts into tears that threatened now spill from my eyes to trace down my face marking my cheeks with shame at the pain I caused my sweet, sweet Little Bird. I lay next to her and drape my arm over her and pull her closer, even in sleep she nestles closer into me.

I open my eyes to a tickle on my nose. My face is pressed into the hair of Sandor's chest. My woman parts are sore. Nothing fatal as my Lady Mother said. It was WONDERFUL i thought replaying last nights joining with a rising a blush. I take in my man's scent. It has a slight musk that speaks of the wide world and of something wild. I wriggle carefully out of his embrace and make my way slowly to his sex. I place a kiss on the head then a lick, I stroke his shaft and his manhood stirs as does he. He opens his eyes. He pulls to his mouth to kiss me slowly and gently. He asks how I'm feeling. I tell him i feel fine and his eyes drift to my nether region. I smile and tell him the pain is almost gone. He narrows his eyes but says no more. I continue with my experiments on what pleases my new husband by placing licks, rubs and kisses on his member. I admire it's size and girth and think with delight and a little blush that this is MINE.

I quicken my pace and my ministrations in earnest and notice with a happy heart Snador's breathing changes with sharp intakes of breath and small thrusts does he meet my eager tongue, lips and hand that strokes his length. I raise my eyes to find he meets mine they widen slightly, his stones tighten closely to him and with a gasp his seed is released. The copious amount alarms me and I wonder when it will come to an end, with each shudder and pulse a little more issues forth.

My eyes dart around looking for a recepticle in which to cast the contents when I decide it would be unseemly to spit out that which he gave me in love so I swallow, Sandor searches too and finds a cast off bit of clothing a bade me spit. I respond only with a giggle and smile. His brown eyes widen and he pulls me close to stroke my long copper tresses aplace kisses atop my head.

I replay in my mind last nights bedding. His tenderness for me. The sensations and feelings he elicited with his touch. It hurt but not nearly as bad as I thought it would. As I lay there lost in thought my stomach makes it's presence known. It earns a quick smile from Sandor who suggests we break our fast. I rise and dress, my eyes rarely leaving the ring that now adorns the third finger of my left hand. I am wedded and bedded and wife to a brave, fearless, kind and loving man from this day till my end day.

As if by magic both my Lady Mother and brother who is King bid entrance to our temporary home. I have a feeling it was at my mothers insistence that they are both here. My mother to make sure I still live my brother to still my mothers incessant tongue.I know she loves me and out that love she still is still trying to mother me, me a woman grown ! I make sure not to limp when I greet them both with an embrace. How fares you they both ask. I am fine. Sandor produces the linen of my bedding as proof the marriage has been consummated. Upon the white lies my blood from my maidenhead that is no more.


	11. Chapter 11 Hard Ride

This chapters deals with a mother's love, separation, honesty & Sansa's taste of the sacrifice of others.

I am glad you are well daughter. Your Lord Husband and your King need to talk. Let us walk for awhile.

I gather my cloak and I cast a meaningful look towards Sandor, my husband...I like the sound of that rolling off my tongue. I know my Lady Mother is full of questions of the how and why. Especially why him. She makes small talk of the weather. We find a stand of cotton wood trees where the horses are tethered. A felled tree is now our bench.

Are you really well ? Will you tell me of your time on the road with the Hound ? How it came to be that you love him ?

King's Landing wasn't what I expected mother. Full of false friends, deceit, greed and cruelty beyond measure. He had me beaten like a dog. He had me stripped in front of the court. He MADE me watch Ser Ilyn Payne... And I burst into tears. I tell her in between sobs of Sandor's kindness and words of wisdom. I even tell her of the cotton from the cotton wood tree and what he did for me then. I tell her about the town we stopped in for supplies. He thought it better I wait in a copse of wood while he went in to get jerked meat and wine. About the man who confronted me and tried to...

Sandor has been training me in hand to hand combat and small arms. I have the dagger I brought from King's Landing which is small but lethal if used properly. Don't come at em girl, wait until he comes to you then go up into his belly and work it around like you're stirring porridge. Knee him in the stones. Gouge his eyes with your fingers. Anyone coming for you here isn't going to care WHO you are, only that you are easy prey.

This is for your life, they will think nothing of taking yours, your maidenhead the shoes off your feet whatever they think they can or need. Do not falter it is you or them.

What about sword play I ask innocently.

He draws Bane over his shoulder and holds it in one hand. It is a great sword. Longer than I am tall. He holds it by the blade and motions for me to grasp it's grip which I do. As soon as Sandor releases his grip the blade noses into the dirt. I cannot lift it more than a foot off the ground with both hands. Well perhaps if you're in a tree you can drop it on their head he says with a smirk.

I go to town. Keep out of sight I will return shortly. And off he went with a brisk stride leaving me and Stranger, each eyeing the other with slight distrust. I go to find a cluster of sweet grass, he does upon occasion allow me to feed him, provided I drop it in front of him and back slowly away. I find what I sought and walk back to Stranger. His ears prick and he snorts stamping his feet his flanks quiver. I cock my head wondering what is amiss when I clammy hand envelopes my mouth and my captor snarls in my ear.

I did't think the big man would ever leave you. I want some of his honey, you give it to him why not share a little with me, huh little one ? He says all the while squeezing my left breast to the point of pain.

My dagger is in the hand clutching the grass, I don't care I stab backwards to plunge into his thigh and run. He shrieks and withdraws the dagger, I see it covered in blood about three inches up it's blade. He comes limping towards me clutching my knife now in his hand. I stumble backwards and I'm at Stranger side. He covers the distance waving my blade and says," Now I get poke you , you little BI... "

It was fast, before he could finish his sentence Stranger's hind legs lifted to kick the man in his head with his right hoof. Nothing but a wet pulp and mist remained where once his head sat. His corpse didn't appear to know it was dead at first, his arms flayed wildly and his knees buckled where he landed in a slumped mess of gore. He sat twitching for several moments before he lay still. His bowels let loose if the smell is any indication.

I stood there staring for long minutes until I heard the approach of someone. I peer around the trees to espy Sandor his carry sack bulging and a cloth wrapped something tucked up under his arm. He walks up eyes moving taking in everything in his surroundings until his eyes land on the cooling ruin of what was once a man. He rushes to me and asks if I'm alright. I stabbed him is all I could say. He goes and kicks over the corpse to see the the wet, red mess of his head and looks at my handy work. "Why did you not stab him again " he asks. I wanted to get away from him.

Never leave your weapon behind, girl is all he says.

I curse myself for stopping in the tavern for a pint of my own. Had I not done so I would have been here to stop the attack. It could have gone so very wrong had My Little Bird not fought back. I make a promise then and there that neither wine or mead shall ever pass my lips again.

That struck me as wrong and said as much. I told him it was easy for him but this was my first time defending myself and it turned out okay. He retorts only because Stranger removed his filthy head. He walks over to his dropped cloth parcel and hands it to me. I open it to find a small sword. It's not nearly as heavy as Bane but the heft feels good in my hand. I proceeded to learn basic swordplay from a Master.

My mother says not a word with pursed lips as I continue my tale.

In the beginning Sandor would disarm me with ease. We would practice with sticks. More than one day I went to sleep with the throbbing of wrist or smacked knuckles. I complained bitterly one day before we started our daily round of practice. He said only, get better and it won't hurt. It angered me and I decided then and there I would not falter no matter how badly it hurt. I also decided I would not be satisfied until for once, I could disarm him.

That day came when he decided we would practice with dual weaponry. Sword and dagger. I cam at him with fury. I remembered every horrible experience I'd endured over the past thirteen months, the pain and humiliation the horror of it all. I spun, slashed, parried, lunged and whirled to spin and land a resounding thunk on the back of head, kicked the back of his knee to unbalance him then jabbed him savagely in his man parts with my stick dagger.

It would have been better he gasps had you...He falters and winces, alarmed I kneel to try and offer comfort when he grasps me and flips onto my back, winded, all thoughts of defense take flight. Quick he withdraws his real dagger to place at my throat.

NEVER, he thunders approach one wounded or " dead " unless by spear or sword point. Then only to finish him off. Do not assume that just because he's not moving he is dead. I've seen more than one man killed by a supposed " corpse ". He is above me on his side.

We are face to face.

I look into those all seeing eyes and I crane my neck upwards quickly to plant a kiss on the cheek of his bad side. He starts and for once my Protector is at a loss for words and movement. He still leans over me. I see shimmers of emotions roil behind those beautiful brown eyes.

He gets up swiftly and stalks off into the surrounding brush.

She kissed me...SHE kissed ME he screams in his mind...WHY ?! His great heart lurches within him to pound out a staccato rhythm of pain, fury, lust, need, want and...Love. He wages an internal battle between his mind and what she has just done..The She Wolf teases..It's not YOU, it's her need in a maturing body you fool. It would not matter if it was a minstrel or one of her false knights that was near her, only that he had a willing cock.

She deserves more. A man with vast holdings and lands and the proud banner of one of the great Houses who's lineage can be traced back to the first men. Not a house who's head is a ravenous animal on two legs. Who's house was formed only three generations ago and granted not by the King but a Lannister.

She KISSED me...thump, thump...SHE KISSED me..thumpa,thumpa...She kissed ME..bam,bam,bam goes my heart and a small smile ghosts on my lips..I will love her from this day till my end day..A small glimmer grows in my heart. I clutch it with greed to the innermost region of my beating heart...Maybe, just maybe if I prove myself worthy...STOP my mind rages..And what if she " loves " you..What then, what do you think her Brother the King will do on finding his sister and a daughter of Winterfell is soiled beyond repair by the likes of YOU ?! You will be beaten and caged like the dog you are, castrated to have your body dumped in the offal pit. There is Sandor Clegane who's tarred head now graces the walls of the great Keep of Winterfell. He was a brave but foolish man.

I search my gauntlet for a folded bit of paper and saunter over to my carry sack to rifle through it find my ink pot, Sansa sits honing her small dagger, eyeing me with curiosity. I sit down a few yards from the object of my life, my reason. I snap off a twig to use as a quill and commence to my prose, that IS what she wants, right ? I sit with a blank stare to what I have written on my paper." I love the way..I want you to know...I need... AARRGGHH.. with disgust I refold my paper and stuff it into my gauntlet to stalk off once again to clear my clouded mind.

I watch him through the corner of my eye. He sit's there with a distant look in his own eyes to smirk, shakes his shaggy head, screw his face into a grimace to finally fold the paper and stuff it into his gauntlet.. I muse to myself I wonder what I wouldn't find should I shake with vigor his gauntlets, it seems he uses them with frequency to carry, hide, pack bits of this and that... As he stretches a the paper falls to the ground as he stomps off to his thoughts.

After I am sure he is out of sight do I scurry over to the fallen bit , to open and read, in his own hand what he scribbled in his broad and surprisingly neat hand. It is a prose...Or the beginnings of one.

My thoughts are brought back to the present and my Lady Mother who's hand on mine breaks me away from the scenes in my mind.

He does have a love for you I see, says my mother.

Our musings drift by the wayside at the approach of my brother and husband. Now that I am relaxed I see with trepidation the lines of my brother's face. This war and the responsibilities he now carries are aging him. Sandor's eyes always open to me are now shadowed by something I cannot define.

So soon is all my mother says ?

She grasps me in an embrace so tight I can barely draw breath, she releases me with tears brimming her deep blue eyes. Next is Robb who also hugs me close and breaks the hug and steps back to search my face landing on my clear blue eyes to say.

No matter what comes to pass Sister always remember. You are a Stark of Winterfell and you have steel within you.

Soon for what ?

Come Little Bird , we ride this night.


	12. Chapter 12 Water Dancer

I walk quickly to keep apace with my new husband, " Sandor, what is going on ? "

" Not here ", he says curtly.

Once we gain our tent away from prying eyes he sits me down upon the bed. I start to see two strangers inside.

" Fear not ", says Sandor, " They are here to help us. "

" The King has been informed it is now known where you are, The Bastard seeks his wayward bride to be."

My insides shrink into a small, cold knot in the depths of my belly, " I cannot go back " , I say with a slight tremor in my voice.

" Back, no Little Bird, never back. "

We wait until darkness blankets the land. The two strangers rise as one and come forward. " My name is Lynon Braven and this is my sister Laena. We are from the North and remember your Lord Father's kindness and mercy. Our mother died when I was six my sister four. When your Lord father found out we were true orphan's he bade a kitchen maid and a stable hand to take us in to raise as their own with her natural born children Wymaen and Culla. We grew up within the shelter of Winterfell's great walls. "

" We do this for you, for Winterfell, for the North and the memory of your Lord Father. "

Lynon is almost as tall as My Sandor. Not nearly as thick, his sister Laena is my height with hair a bit lighter in color as mine and wide grey~green eyes. Laena dons a woolen dress in Stark Grey with white piping and inserts. She places my heavy woolen cloak over her shoulders and puts the hood up over her head. Her brother dons his layers that look suspiciously like my Lord Husband's. The final touch is Sandor's Helm of a dog's snarling snout and head.

They take leave of us and I rush to follow, only to be grasped firmly by Sandor.

" Do not make this subterfuge an effort in futility he whispers fiercely in my ear. "

So there we sit in the dark for a time until I hear a cry for arms and the pounding of many feet and the clatter of armored men rush by our tent.

" That is our cue says my husband let us take our leave of this place and quickly ", he ushers me to the back of the tent at its corner and opens it. Into the night air we rush with hurried steps, darting from heavy shadow, to tent, to tree. We are away from the main body of my brothers camp in a stand of trees to find Stranger tethered and a tall narrow mare beside him. Let us use the cover of night to our advantage once more my wife.

We ride like the devils from all the hell's are at our heels. My mare keeps abreast of Sandor's great mount the pounding of hooves the only sound to my ears. So it went till the greying of dawn. With brief stops to water and rest our horses. Only then do I have the time and cohesive thought to question My Sandor.

" What is to become of the siblings ? "

" A hard ride and most likely a harder death ." He says simply.

" DEATH ?! Why, they are not me or you. "

" What pray tell do you think their captor's will do to them once it is discovered they have been lured into a false hunt ? Congratulate them on their cleverness ?! I think not, a hard death after " questioning ". Hopefully we will be where we are supposed to be, that their sacrifice will have it's intended effect. Would that the wind is with them to make their mounts fleet of foot. If they can gain the wall they may find some small measure of safety there...Or beyond it."

" What effect ? " I say in a husky whisper.

" Time."

So our days and nights merge into one blur until we hit the coast of the bracken sea. We appear to wander aimless until Sandor stops by a pile of stones. He dismounts to carefully remove the stones to set aside to find a cloth, picks it up to open it to find a coin he then places the stones in the order in which he took them. He turns abruptly to his right and walks in measured steps to a trunk of a once great tree now old and broken to be in five large pieces. He removes Bane and uses it as a lever to roll the third chunk slightly away from it's depression. Beneath it lays a package of oilskin. He removes it and carefully rolls the log back into place.

Without a word he motions for me to remount and wanders about until he finds a beaten path hugging the jagged rock of the coast. We follow the trail head for sometime until we are on the sand of a beach. I think I see the silhouette of a small boat bobbing casually on the tide. We come between the outcrop of two large rock formations to find an oil drenched torch unlit. Sandor starts a small fire behind the rocks lights the torch and raise it above his head then lowers it quickly to the ground, he does this three times then douses the torch in the sea.

From the waves comes a light on the water, twice does it flash then disappears only to flash twice more.

Sandor unburdens our mounts to toss the lot in the boat.

" Get in he whispers,"

" The horses I say."

" Will swim or drown. " As he knots off their leads to the boat.

The horses stamp the ground but follow our small boat, their nostrils flaring, their breath blowing in puffs and snorts, their nostrils flaring wide. Follow they do with powerful unseen kicks.

Off we glide on the choppy sea. As we get further out I see the shadow of a large boat it's sails furled bobbing on the waves. As we near I see it is lean and and low on the water line, a ship built for speed. As Sandor's efforts at the oars bring us along side the silent ghost ship a ladder unrolls to slap at the side of the ship.

Sandor helps me gain my feet and guides me to the rope and wood slat ladder as it slaps against the side. I crawl up. Sandor close behind. We are surrounded by all manner of men. Some small and dark of skin their hair in tight curls close cropped to their small round heads. Some long and lean. All armed.

One steps forward and I poorly mask my sharp intake of breath. he is enormous, not only of height but of girth and ugly beyond imaginings. His face is marked with all manner of scarring. Slashes, cuts, chunks missing as is the tip of his nose. A burn on his face in the shape of a bearded and horned daemon adorns his right cheek. His great and scarred and hairless belly jiggles slightly with every step. I take in the sight having never seen a belly this big. Bigger even than that of the Late Robert Baratheon's.

Sandor strides with measured steps up to this giant mass of flesh. He produces the coin and says two words.

" Valar Morghulis."

The apish scarred men barks out a laugh that jiggles his great fat belly in undulating waves. he stops just as quickly and says.

" It is good to see you once a again sweet Sansa. I am pleased to see you have not lost your pretty little head. Thanks no doubt to the fierceness of the man who dogs your every step. "

" Do I know you Ser ?!" " I do not believe we have met as I would remember you." Though his accent is somewhat familiar...Yes his accent is from across the sea. Braavos I believe.

" Are you sure we are not acquainted? " He says with a glint of laughter in his dark eyes.

: Yes."

His face pulls down into a mock frown and he places his hand on his forehead while he spins slowly in place and when he turns once more to face me head bowed and...Smaller...

I see a small man with bouncy midnight curls and a lithe and nimble frame. As he raises his face to me meet my eyes his hand slides slowly down his face over the ugly mien of the fat man to shift into the visage of Syrio, Arya's ...Dance Instructor ?!

His tiny frame bows deeply and says," Welcome aboard the Sea Spear My Lady and Ser."

Where is Arya I ask my heart sinking.

" She travels a different path an unexpected one but she is safe for the nonce, it is better for Stark's not to travel in packs at this time. " He says cryptically as he turns on his heel to bark orders to the crew. The horses are winched aboard Stranger wild eyed and thrashing , calming only at soft words from Sandor his ears pricked and great chest heaving.

The sails unfurled the anchor pulled from the inky depths and we are under way. I watch with misty eyes as the land that bore me slips from sight it's rocky shores now only a memory in my mind.

The sea is rough and choppy after a week of calm waters. We edge the front of a storm and have been for week. The sides pitch nearly knocking me from my feet time and again. Sandor's sea legs are better than mine as he walks towards me." How long since we left Mother and Robb I ask ? " " Not quite seven weeks he says." When will we be done with this accursed journey on this toss pot of a conveyance I lament . The sway and tossing of this day after day upsets my stomach, I can keep nothing down I want only for calm waters I say only to feel the rise of yet another bout vomiting about to unleash.

I walk to the chest that contains our garments, I see the oil skin and ask of it's contents.

" In time", is all my Lord Husband says.

I shrug and find a dress of a plain blue without piping or inserts or the material of fine wool since my grey woolen dress and the ones I brought with us from Robb's camp now fit too tightly across my chest and waist. my husband comes up behind me and embraces me in the arms I love to feel round me.

He sits heavily on our narrow bed and pulls me too him. He raises the light dress I just put on, up and over my head and kisses my belly gently, he rubs it with a massive, calloused hand and his eyes gaze lovingly at my belly which I see with some alarm appears slightly to bulge outward from my hips. He moves his hand upward to pinch the nipple of my right breast to hardness. My woman parts awaken with a flutter in my belly.

He cranes his neck to suck my other nipple, hardened with anticipation before his teeth and tongue meets my yearning flesh. I melt into his arms and lose myself in the glory of his touch. He places me on our small bunk stripping quickly. I look with appreciation as he disrobes the outline of his sex straining against the bonds of his breeches. He steps out of his clothing to lay atop me his tongue tasting me as our tongues do the lover's search in each others mouths.

He pulls away to taste my nipples gently at first squeezing my breasts. His his tongue then swirls and sucks greedily at my pink tips. My woman parts contract and I lift my hips to rub against his groin. I meet the juncture of his shaft and rub furiously against him. My hips grinding an urgent rhythm. He slowly pulls away to trace his tongue down my belly to the moistness of my sex. I quiver with want as he spreads my legs wide, biting my inner legs to just this side of the pleasure pain threshold. He takes my hard core of my womanhood and sucks at it bringing me to almost my come, only to back off and lick, suck, squeeze my inner thighs. The madness of passion wants to break free but he keeps me in check with his strength. I wish to flip him on his broad back and mount his sex to ride him hard, driving him deeply within me. To buck and thrash like a animal upon him. To ride my come hard like a beast to be broken at my pleasure and whim. He knows he toys with me and teases me with the first few inches off his manhood. I plead with my eyes and sharp intakes of breath.

He grants my unspoken want with a swift thrust of his well muscled backside to breach all that is me. To give every glorious inch he has to gift to me. My back arches to match his urgent rhythm. He cups the cheeks of my rump and rises up to his knees bringing me with. I plant my feet on the bunk and he braces me in his hands. I start a dance upon his shaft of my own. I tease him with my depth only to glide slowly back up his length. I squeeze him from the inside and smile demurely. He humors me for a few strokes more before he flips me onto my belly to take me from behind. His thrust are frenzied as his flesh drives into mine. Into me he pumps furiously grasping me by my hips. I ride the beast, I thrash into his every movement mirroring his thrusts with some of my own to meet in the middle my come riding hard to meet the apex of this joining. Sandor reaches a hand to the nub of my sex matching each thrust with a pinch, flick or rub. I hear pounding of the hooves of coming beating in my head I shudder and buck below him and with a final thrust and pinch to my nub the floodgates open to a spreading warmth gliding from my woman parts to wash over me with a warm glow the after effects a lingering shudder as he moves to mount his own ride to pleasure. I move to pleasure him and his back arches he spends his seed within my wet fold of woman...His woman.


	13. Chapter 13 Find Your Steel

I fall asleep in his arms nestled against his broad hair covered chest.

I awaken with a new days dawn my stomach roiling to empty it's contents on the floor of our small cabin. I hunt to find something to clean up the mess when Sandor scoops me up to place me on our bunk. He cleans up my mess I see with my color rising in embarrassment.

"I am sorry husband I would have cleaned it up, the weather and the waves make me sick to my stomach most days."

He comes to me to tilting my face upwards to meet his gaze.

" The storm we were riding around has passed us by completely about five hours past. Wife, when is the last time you bled ? "

" How many weeks since we left Robb ?" I ask, a rising alarm not hidden in my voice.

" Nearly seven weeks, with the last two here on this boat. "

I count backwards. I count again backwards. My eyes meet his and widen. I should have had my moon blood when we just left the camp and again on this boat.. " I've missed not one but two cycles ! "

He wraps his arm around me a places soft kisses on my head. " You truly are a woman grown now my Sweet Little Bird you are now with child. A pup grows in your belly. Flesh of my flesh, flesh of yours and our joining. " He rubs my belly tenderly. I recall in my minds eye and I am brought back once more to now that is our today.

" Do not think to shirk your duties just because you're getting married now. " Teases Sandor while grasping our son's shoulder.

" Never ! " Says Ned. He and his soon to be bride walk towards the training corral and my son's waiting pupils.

" What is it you were thinking of asks my husband ? "

" Of times long past, our wedding, our second flight, our time upon the sea. "

He chuckles deep in his chest and says he and the Maester have an appointment with the Master Builder in the old yard. As we walk slowly back we part company as I enter the kitchen, Culla once again waving her spoon in time to the hearth beat of the kitchen.

She sees me and a smile near as wide as her hips dances across her face to reach her wide blue eyes.

" Your grace she says would you be hungering for mothers soup now ? "

" I would indeed. " Mother's Soup is a concoction of her making warm broth will finely chopped vegetables and herbs she grows in the western window of the vast kitchen of Winterfell. It is a murky yellow in color and will warm you to your toes on the coldest of days. Pregnant women for years have subsisted for weeks and months on this alone, her and her mother's before her. It nourishes as well as eases the sickness of morning so often suffered by women with child. I settle down inside the kitchen the warmth of the fires and ovens making it a cozy sanctuary.

Dany drifts in with a small smile on her face the violet of her eyes a stark contrast to her silvery hair.

She settles in to the bustle of the kitchen to sit across me and announces in a low voice that my pale yellow Dame dragon Summer has been successfully bred to the male and now guards a clutch of eggs.

Very few people remembered the art of breeding dragons. And it IS an art. Just because a female is in season does not mean she wishes to breed. As they are long lived creatures they do not need to breed to keep the species alive during every cycle. A female may breed but once in her entire life to produce a clutch of eggs of varying hues depending on her coloration and that of the bull she is bred to.

Sansa had agreed to give up her mount for a time for this purpose. Thankfully her yellow Dame took a shine to a red mount and the courtship ensued consisting of fresh kills brought for her approval and consumption while she digs day and night her lair until it meets her satisfaction.

Dragons breed on the wing. They soar to heights beyond mortal sight then lock in an embrace as they tumble and twirl at great speeds to break away and repeat the process until a successful joining occurs. Some raptor species do the same thing only in courtship. Once the mating has been true the Dame goes then to ground to line her den with vegetation. She will lay a clutch of eggs numbering from three to as many as eighteen. Generally speaking first breeding produces three to six eggs to increase in number with older Dames and successive breedings. Sansa's yellow Dame brought forth at least five that we counted before her Bull mostly covered the entrance leaving but a small space for air and to feed her. So she will remain there while the Bull makes endless circles in the sky above diving and landing only to make a kill to feed the penned in Dame or drive another male off.

So this cycle continues until a turn of the moon passes and the Dame breaks out of her den with her eggs close to hatching. Young dragons are land locked until their wings strengthen and they take their first tentative hopping flights. They are fast learners. Only the Rider of a dragon may approach without fear. Since Sansa is not in any condition to fly Traenyr and my Lord Husband left at the breaking of dawn to go to the rookery and collect the clutch while the Dame flew in search of food. The Dragon Keeper rounded up all eight eggs to cage them and strap them to the back of his land bound horse to meet my Prince consort who's mount is the Emerald Green, Wrath and son who rides the Sapphire Blue, FleetWing . Tyrion who rides on the back of his mount following Traenyr on his knowing full well that once the Dame returns she will follow her offspring's scent all the way back to Winterfell. Hopefully with Sansa awaiting her to calm her.

A dragon hard drove may make the trip from Queen's Landing in two and a half days. Dragon's do not require rest as we human's do. I worry for my Lord Husband but he does love to fly. My joints do not ache only my ass he has oft said of being a Rider. Had I known of the intent of the Northern Prince to take my girl Sansa to wife I would have brought her accouterments with us.

Sweet Sansa the Northern Queen and our Child in God's Anjelae both agreed to postpone the wedding by seven days to accommodate the added bride and groom. Culla the Kitchen Matron said everyone would be happy for the extra sweets made that would not keep for the moved date, so many a child and grown up too had sticky fingers and jam smeared faces eating with relish the wedding treats.

I close the gap between us with my hand to clasp the Northern Queen's, my friend and confidant.

" How do you feel today ? " I ask.

" Just tired. " She answers with a weak smile.

" Perhaps you should rest some. I can handle the details while you lay down for a bit. "

It is a kind thing and I am becoming drowsy after I finished my light meal, the warmth in my belly spreads slowly to my I walk to my rooms and crawl into the expanse of the bed Sandor and I share. I clutch his pillow inhaling deeply his scent that lingers and drift off...

I awaken to a flurry of activity on deck as evidenced of the pounding of feet. Sandor is no where to be seen. I dress quickly and climb the steep steps to the above side of the ship. What goes on I ask a hand. News from Westeros a raven he says swiftly and hurries on to his task. I see the broad back of My Love bent towards the tiny Braavosi in deep conversation. The turn to me silently my husband grasps me in a hug.

" What's wrong ? " I ask a lump in my throat a spreading cold dread with icy fingers spreading from my belly. " What news ? "

"I leave you to it ." Syrio says a quick bow in my direction as he heads to a knot of men.

I look to my Lord Husband. " Sansa...Sweet Sansa... "

" WHAT ?! "

" Your brother and Lady Mother were killed by deceit and dishonor. "

" WHERE, WHEN ?! "

" At the Twins . "

" At the wedding of one of old Walder's spawn. They shared bread and salt it is given that it means safe conduct ! "

At mention of the Twins I am brought back to our doubles, who took all the danger upon their shoulders. " Any word of Lynon and Laena I ask ? "

His face lowers and mumbles that they were captured and put to the question by Bolton's bastard Ramsey.

It is too much to bear. Robb dead, my Lady Mother, both murdered under a guarantee of safe conduct. Arry God's knew where. Bran, Rickon , Hodor with a wilding woman and two frog siblings to places unknown.

It was not for many months later I learn of the degradation of my mother and Robb's remains were subjected to.

An ache takes anchor to my very soul. I curse and swear revenge. I have steel in me. " Why ? " I ask Sandor my eyes search his for an answer.

" That raven haired beauty you saw tending the wounded in your Brother's camp ? That was his Lady Wife. He broke his trust with the Frey's for love and lust. Old Walder is not one to forgive OR forget any slight no matter how great or small. "

With that he grasps me by my shoulders firmly and tells me meet his eyes.

With reluctance I do so.

" Remember this day. Remember the rage and pain. When you doubt your course REMEMBER. Remember also some day if you sit a throne that these were the actions of a Lord from a supposed noble house who can trace their lineage back to the first men too. Remember the sacrifice of the siblings, they were low born but gave their lives to give me time to get you away form Westeros to allies across the sea. It is not a birth right, nobility, you know. It is as one does with the time and life given them. " With that he wraps tightly me to his chest his strong arms encompassing me where I sob quietly into it.

I awake to Sandor gently rubbing the my tear stained cheek.


	14. Chapter 14 Water Dancer Indeed

This is about Sandor's sacrifice on a terrifying ( for him ) physical level. Love knows no bounds.

" What troubles you my wife ? "

" Bad memories, when you told me of the death of Robb, my Lady Mother and the siblings. I remembered though, what you said after you told me and I hope I have made the North a decent place for our people. "

" You have done that and more My Queen. Your people can read and work their numbers. You make sure to store away grains and food stuffs for the lean times. The laws are just and all peoples enjoy it whether noble or low or even base born. The people love you. In what other land can a ruler walk amid her people without fear of attack ? Not even dear friend Danaery's can do that in Queen's Landing. "

" Perhaps she could but her Prince will not allow it to be tested, he loves her." " Who would have thought that the woman child widow of a dead Khal would have taken to husband one such as he ? "

" Love has no restrictions or bounds wife, what of me ? " " I am no handsome man he says while rubbing the nearly invisible scar on his cheek yet I have the most beautiful woman in all the lands as my Lady Wife and Queen. " As I stare at the faded mark on his cheek and remember how it came to be there.

" Is there no other way Sandor ? " Says with barely contained rage.

He is in discussion with the tiny Braavosi Syrio. It will be hard enough to disguise Sansa with her coppery locks. But you are known as well and the two of you together looking as you are is too much. This way you at least have a reason to be her shadow and not draw suspicion.

I cock my head to the side and approach laying my hand on Sandor's arm. He looks to me and suggests I go below for the nonce.

" Why ? "

" Wife, please do as I bid you to. "

Hurt I turn to go below and am almost to the hatch when I turn to see Syrio approach my husband with a glowing brand. I draw my sword and dagger to charge headlong to his defense, Syrio stares mouth agape at my closing form and draws his own blade, I remember with clarity the events in slow motion. Sandor rises a fraction too late to stop my attack the Braavosi wheels but I anticipated his move and leap to close his escape and slash, he parries and lunges I twist away to lunge at him myself, he blocks I kick the back of his knee to bring him down and place my dagger at his throat and he...

Laughs his eyes twinkling. I step back removing my dagger from his throat. I look to my husband for explanation his eyes also sparkle with humor.

" What is so funny ? " I say to the audience that gathered to watch our " fight ".

" I am thinking in my mind I should have instructed you to dance as well my Lady but I think your Lord Husband has done a fine job  
of it. "

I blush at his compliment. I reach for Sandor's hand.

" You may want to tell your wife as you should have done before then she wouldn't have near killed me in your defense. "

" Where we go slaves are marked by a brand on their cheek. It denotes their purpose. This one, he holds the brand is for fighters or bodyguards. " It is the horned and bearded daemon the fat man bore on his cheek.

" It is now known you are wedded each to the other, we must use whatever means at our disposal to make you two look less like yourselves." " That will require you to dye and cut your hair my Lady. It requires Sandor to change his visage. The man Westeros knew is fearful of fire and the likelihood he would sit by while another branded him is remote. so we must hide you in plain sight and he has agreed to it. In addition to this brand he will shave his beard and head. "

I watch as Sandor braces himself and flinches as the brand draws nearer. I grasp his hand as Syrio touches it to his cheek, his muscles bunch and he grits his teeth but not a sound does he make. It lasts only a moment and then it is done. A daemon now adorns my Lord Husbands cheek for all to see. I lead him back to our small cabin and offer him wine which he refuses. Asking for water instead.

" It will help you sleep ", I say and he still refuses wanting water instead. Syrio comes in with a small vial. Four drops for one his size put it into a spoon of water. It's a milky liquid and I know it for what it is which is milk of the poppy. He takes it without question and drifts into a fitful at first sleep. I put a poultice on his wound and sit beside him and watch the steady rise and fall of his chest. I snuggle beside him and even in a drug induced sleep does he pull me close. I lay my head on his chest and hear the heart of my beloved beat a steady rhythm.

My sickness of morning wakes me up as the dawn nears and I am confounded by cramps that attack my calves almost daily. Sandor stirs and murmurs a query on what is the matter. He is answered by my heaving. He bounds up to hold my hair as I at least make it into the bucket Syrio provided for times such as this. After my stomach empties I rock back on my backside motioning to my husband at my calves. He rubs them and stretches out my leg swearing the whole while it will make the cramp pass faster. I think to myself it is doubtful you are merely punishing me for an imagined offense and if he really loved me he would make the pain stop. I realize what I have just thought in my head and immediately feel shame color my face as I know this man with his marred visage and wonderful hidden heart loves me deeply. He who took yet another burn scar to his flesh to protect me.

After I recover sufficiently to rise, dress, wash my face and rinse my mouth. I go to collect some food stuffs for my husband. I return to our tiny home on the sea to find him shaving his beard. I see with concern he has nicked himself more than once. He looks at me sheepishly... It is my first time shaving. I trim it upon occasion but I've never actually shaved before. I try hard to hide my humor and failing miserably I see him thrust the razor to me. I slide the blade over his beard and find myself staring in awe at the skin underneath. The unmarred side of his face is words. His cheekbone perfectly formed. His jaw wide and straight. His mouth is appealing enough so I plant a lingering kiss on his lips. I then proceed to finish what he has started. His overbite is more noticeable clean shaven but I find him all the more appealing for it. And show him just how much I like his new look...

I pull him to our bunk and unlace his breeches slowly. I am glad he does not have to shave his chest. I love to run my hands through the hair that covers his chest and belly and love the feel when I lay on his chest. I take his waking manhood and toy with the head. I begin sucking in earnest and take several inches keeping my tongue always moving on the underside. I stroke the remaining length and grasp his stones gently. His eyes flutter his breathing deepens and he rocks back and forth. take a little more of his length and tickle his stones never missing a stroke of his shaft. His stones tighten to him and his come releases down my throat.

He lays back on the cot and watches me rinse my mouth through slit eyes.

I borrowed a pair of scissors from a deck hand called Stitches who mends the sails and clothing of the crew. Sandor rises his mouth a grim line. I know he is not happy with his head also being shorn but as his locks fall to the floor he relaxes by degrees. When all is close cropped as I can get it I go at him with the razor once more. His head is scarred as well. I had no idea one man could have so much damage to him and yet live. When my handiwork is done I retrieve a looking glass for his inspection.

This is the first time I have been without hair. Even when I was born I had a mass of thick hair. Even when I was pushed into the coals not all of my hair burned away.I rub my bald pate and remarks at least my head is well formed and round though scarred. I look also to my new wound which will soon be a scar. What is one more and if it keeps my Lady Wife safe I would accept without question a hundred more.

I grab Sweet Sansa around her waist to plant a kiss on her expanding belly. I wish I could take away her cramps and sickness of morning. I replay with pride her coming to my " defense " yesterday. She did not falter and struck true. I knew Syrio would do her no harm but for a moment he was hard pressed to repel her. She will be a fine sword main someday. She's fond of taking your legs out from beneath you as well.

I go to my husband and rub his head. It feels soft and baby like and I think in my head again how glad I am his chest still has that thick mat of hair. I wonder if all men are hairy and remember the fat man but he wasn't actually real.

I'm brought back to our busy life by Branae and Wuf and my little girl is again sticky with jam. Someday she will get most of it in her rather than on her. I think with a sigh as I rise to clean her of my Lord Husband bounds in his smile wide on his face.

" I have a surprise he says eyes gleaming ! "


	15. Chapter 15 Dragon Rider

I quickly wipe the baby's face and lean to pick her up but Sandor steps in with a waggle of his finger and scoops her up and sets her on his shoulder much to her delight and even remembers to duck so as not to smack her head. The first time he did not and and she ended up with a large lump and wailed long and loud enough to wake her ancestors that lay sleeping in the crypts beneath us. I'm not sure who was more traumatized from the incident but I am leaning towards my husband. He big heart near broke at seeing her in pain.

I walk beside my husband, his one hand on our daughter balanced on his right shoulder his left arm about me. He leads me to the old part of Winterfell and I behold a sight. Though I have never seen anything like it before I know with a certainty that this is the glass house Tyrion had been speaking about. It has many glass panes in a wooden framework. The glass went down the sides to be replaced by a wall about four feet from the ground.

Sandor leads me inside and it is warm, a hot spring diverted as Tyrion had said. I notice braziers glowing in all four corners. And to my delight I see the first things to be planted are my cacao trees ! The baby wants down to explore this new space. I am so pleased and whirl on my husband to place kisses on his beautiful face. I then turn to Danaerys and walk to her. I embrace Dany and thank her for helping make this gift a reality what was once a dream.

" I am going to assume this pleases you says Sandor . "

" Oh, it does, it does ! " " Thank you so much, all of you ! " The Master Builder his helpers and the mason's all fairly beam with pride.

I begin to explore this glass house, it has benches at intervals and the stone masonry walls are warm to the touch. I am now the proud owner of six cacao trees. A small warm stream runs through it's center. There is the rich smell of loam and the dark earth freshly turned with designated spaces for more plants and trees.

I see the packages of other trees, wrapped in the material of course weave from the jungles across the sea. Their people call it burrs overlap. My eyes dance from package to package and giddy like a babe I go to peek inside each one. I see lemon trees and orange, and apple trees of the Crisp and Honeyed variety which are my favorite ! I see also tomato, beans of the bush, broccoli, peppers of every variety and even orchids which I have lamented the North to cold to grow them properly.

I look to My Love and Dear Friend my eyes still dancing. I cannot contain my happiness. I think in my head I will be glad when the Southern Prince returns from his business. She almost looks like a little girl lost when they are apart. I see her eyes wander and I know she thinks of him...

I love to ride my dragon, Wrath. He is elegant of wing and steady in flight. When my violet eyed beauty presented me him as an egg which gleamed green and bade me place it in the hearth under flame and wait I thought it ridiculous that I should fly.

I sat for hours alternating between reading an ancient text on dragon husbandry and staring into the flames. Remembering the words of my Lady Wife and Queen that the first sight should be of it's " Mother. " That is the reason none may ride or approach her first three hatchlings without her being present.

I remember the time I cast eyes upon my mount.

Around daybreak a loud snap emanates from within the crackling fire. A flopping, mewling dragon skitters out of the flames to scurry with surprising alacrity across the stone floor and up my torso to sit huddled on my shoulder his sinuous neck wrapped half way around mine to rest his snout on my head. He is hot to the touch and smells vaguely of sulfur and burning embers. I stroke his small scaled back and gently remove him from his perch to inspect my new mount to be.

His scales are an vivid green and go to black at their tips, his wings are membranous and a pale shade of the green of jade. He has a claw at the juncture of mid wing, his neck is always ranging and has a prehensile tail. His eyes near glow with a molten quality running almost to copper in color.

I take a bit of raw meat on the end of a spit to char it nicely for his first meal. He gobble it with vigor then head butts my knee for more. I aqueous and char several more pieces. After he is sated, his small belly noticeably distended. I open my oilskin package at my side, Danaerys pillowcase is within. It is important that it's first scent of human flesh is that of it's Rider. To introduce it to another requires an amount of finesse. An article of clothing or in this case a pillow case of my Love. I have washed my hands in lemon water and strong soap. Carefully removing the scent of raw meat from my person.

I then pick him up and place him on the floor and drape the pillow case over him. It now has my Lady Wife's and mine own scent on it. He snuffles it cautiously and curls up in it's folds to sleep.

Dany comes in some time later to inspect our newest member. He still drowses next to me. He raises his head groggily and flairs his wings and puffs out his neck furls he tries to blow flame but at this young age he blows only smoke, a perfect smoke ring puffs out to land harmlessly on my wife's chest. We both laugh at his bravado. She lowers a hand to him which he snuffles carefully. Deciding she is no threat he again head butts me for yet more meat.

He grew quickly, all the while I was devising a saddle as my legs are not long enough to wrap around even the narrowest part of his neck. On the day of my first ride I was musing to myself that if this went badly I would go from the half man to the charred man in seconds.

" Show no fear ", urged my Lady Wife.

" Easy for you to say my sweet, you are immune to the effects of flame by right of birth. I however may end up being a rump roast."

And once I was mounted we took flight, my custom saddle fit perfectly, I was strapped in so his steep banks and dives did not unseat me. A found a freedom that only my Dany and Sansa knew, until our take off. She was the first Rider in living memory. Wrath glides effortlessly , riding the warm air currents around Quarth's Inlet. I see farther than I have ever seen before, farther even than the looking glass from the men in the East beyond the narrow sea.

I am King of the air I think with childlike glee. Wrath cares not if I am stunted and ugly. Here in the vast sky I am free.

And I think with clarity back to that day and at the task at hand I now face...

I now land at the rookery area, timing is everything. Sansa's pale yellow female Summer is off on the hunt. Her male was guarding the clutch of eggs as he scented my son's male he took to wing. If it is a female's scent he will hold his ground a male's he will fly to meet the interloper. We have but a few minutes to snatch the clutch as the red male will only chase the point of the rookery's boundaries before returning to his wards.

The Dragon Keeper hoist's the eggs onto the back of my Wrath along with a wine skin and hot food.., On swift wings does my son's Blue weave ever closer to the boundary of the rookery antagonizing the male. We see him waiting from up high and notice the red Bull flaps his great wings to hover at the edge of the invisible boundary. He veers off south back towards me, to the now gone clutch.

The Dragon Keeper, Layn Landsbreadth calmly walks back to his post. I command Wrath to rise, my cargo safely strapped to my mount and fly low until I pass the boundary. I command Wrath to blow flame which can be seen for miles signaling my son to ride for Winterfell. " Ride swift My Lord they are no more than four days to hatching", were the last words from Lynon.

Is there any other way to ride a dragon ?!

Off we go in a flurry of wings, my son catches up to me and we both speak one word to our respective mounts, Winterfell and his mount veers to head in a North by North Eastern path followed by my Wrath's banking turn. I open carefully one oilskin that is warm to the touch, it is fried fowl I think with delight. It is best to eat fast or the food will cool Traenyr prefers jerked meat on ventures such as this. There is also a skin of wine to my glad eyes. After eating and drinking my fill I notice we are much further along than I had anticipated, Tail wind I hear over the roar of speed that snatches the shout from my son's mouth. We will be back at Winterfell a full half day ahead of schedule.

I miss my Queen, her silvery hair and her wide violet eyes. I was once a lecherous sot bent on fucking and drinking my way through all seven kingdoms. Then I met her. She who makes me stand a little taller and face it at my height I need every inch. She came to me willing when I was a refugee after my savage and ignorant nephew met his well deserved demise, after I put a quarrel through my Lord Father's guts as he shat in the privy room. She rescued me in more ways then one.


	16. Chapter 16 Blood Drawn

This chapter is dedicated to every woman who felt fat or unloved and not sexy at some point in their life. It is also dedicated to every woman who's had to deal with an Emyra of her own. Take heart, we're all perfect in our own ways ! And sometimes... Well you'll see !

I spent an hour directing where each plant should go, my Lord Husband watching me closely and not allowing me to turn even one small spade of dirt. I notice my clothing is too tight for comfort and asked that my, " With child clothes " be brought out to replace my usual clothing.

I decide I will return to our lower level apartments and Sandor walks beside me. When we gain our rooms my husband scoops me up and twirls me around, he raises me up to meet his lips to my ever growing belly. He turns quickly to bolt our door, I grin at him lasciviously knowing with relish what he has in mind. He sets me down gently and unlaces my dress at the back. I wear only a light shift underneath and my small clothes. He soon has me nude. I look into the reflective surface of the mirror and watch his practiced hands stroke gently over my curves. He lingers at the bulge in my midriff and remarks how our child grows within my womb.

He leads me to our bed and picks me up like a child and lays me gently down. He strips pulling his shirt over his head to reveal the glory of his chest. Pulling off his boots and unlacing slowly his breeches he never breaks his eyes from mine. He lays down beside me stroking me . He plays with my nipples, squeezes my ever growing breasts. He licks and nibbles on my ribs. His hand drifts slowly to my sex where he rubs and pinches my core. It sends waves of pleasure, my hips grind into his touch. He replaces his fingers with tongue exploring my folds with expert care.

I want him, now. He gives me a mere few inches of his stiff member . He withdraws to move me to the edge of the bed and stands to delve once more into my wet depths. He chooses a rhythm to my liking still only giving me half of what he has to offer. I knead my own breasts, flicking my hard pink tips to replace the flicks with pinches. My frenzy mounts, I want more. I wriggle onto him but he backs away. No more he murmurs I would keep you both safe. As my Lord Husband delivers slow measured strokes my passion mounts my back arches he bends forward to suck my hungry for his mouth, tongue and teeth nipples. The heat mounts from my center to build with every touch and thrust. I feel the wave of my come breaching all walls of self control. I bite him on his neck, shoulder, arm anything within reach of my hungry mouth. His belly tightens the ripples of his it's muscled form stands out. I claw his back like a ravenous beast wanting more anticipating my come that mounts with heat within me. One final thrust of his hips and I peak, ride the waves of pleasure that lap at my parts like the tide breaking on the shore. His come came with mine a double gift.

We both lie sated in each others arms. He looks into my eyes with a small smile, brushing a strand of hair from my face he places a quick kiss on my nose and rises to dress for evening meal. I with a sigh and against my want I rise to dress. It warms me that my Sweet Sandor keeps me safe in all ways. I remember of an incident on the sea that went as thus...

We had been at sea for weeks, my leg cramps ever present. My breasts growing and tender, my nipples darkening slightly. My hunger for joining with Sandor near insatiable. I sit up in bed to glare at my swelling belly. This is ALL his fault I decide with conviction. Speaking of which, where is my mate... I waddle to the deck and upon poking my head above the hatch I espy MY Sandor his head bent to the ships slattern Emyra. She is my opposite, short, heavy pendulous breast that are bared for all to see that sway to the yaw and pitch of the ship, dark dusky skin with darker brown nipples, her eyes a smoldering almost black. Her lips painted and rouge coats her cheeks her eyelids are colored as well. I notice also another thing in which we are opposite. HER belly is flat. I stare down at the growing bulge under my ugly shift. She is clad only in sheer silks leaving nothing to the imaginations. She places a hand lightly on the shoulder of that which is MINE and raises her eyes to meet mine a smirk turning the corners of her lips. Sandor looks to her hand and removes it.

Something within me snaps and I charge her eyes ablaze with the fury only a women fat with a jealous eye and belly can muster. She still smirks as I approach fist cocked and punch her soundly on her painted lips. She staggers back to land with a thud on her rump. I spew words of warning to keep her filthy hands off MY husband lest I cut them from her arms. She responds it is not as though he is not big enough to share thinking her humor might calm me. The crew gathers to see what the ruckus is about to see me straddling the slattern pounding her head with some vigor into the deck at her last comment. She begs mercy and a I shriek in the voice of the unhinged that, " I"M NO SER ! " Only to be lifted bodily from the deck her included as my pale fingers twine about her hair. It is the voice of my beloved asking that I release my grip.

He sets me down and I release this ships wench to place a well aimed kick to her backside. She staggers and whips around flinching expecting another blow. My husband takes me by the arm and guides me to our cabin my head twists round to throw venom from my narrowed blue eyes.

We gain our cabin and Sandor shuts the door and turns to face me to be met by a sound slap on his unmarked cheek. He takes a step back and shields his face from my strikes.

" How could you ?! " " You want her don't you ?! " " How long has this been going on ?! " I spit with a reborn rage.

" Wife, I love you and no other."

" Love enough to allow the ship harlot to place a hand upon you ! " I retort.

" A hand which I removed."

Not fast enough I scream in my mind.

" I am fat and ugly. "

" You are more beautiful to me now as the fruit of our union grows within your big belly. " I say with a smile.

My words of comfort get me a resounding slap to my face on the nearly healed branding. It draws blood.

" So I AM FAT ! " I wail.

She raises her tiny hand to deliver another blow.

I catch both her wrists and bring her closely to me.

" You have now drawn blood from me. Wife or not, woman or not you will never do it again. I will never raise my hand to you Sansa but I will constrain you, sit on you if I must but there is no man, woman or beast that has drawn my blood that yet walks and breathes but My LADY Wife. You will compose yourself in this cabin by yourself. When you have regained your senses you may join me above. "

I watch my husband stride out the door to slam it soundly. I sit as tears fall from my eyes to land with silence to the clasped hands in my shrinking lap.

I regain the deck to applause of the crew. Many greet me with a slap on the back or handshake. They refer to my wife as " Swatallii Stirakkii " Swift Strike in the tongue of the browned sea traders.

The small Braavosi, Syrio motions me to sit and introduces me to Dadii. " Hear his words my large friend it may save you some aggravation and pain as well ", as he looks at the still bleeding brand.

" There are several phrases that will make this time of your wife's fat belly easier . " " The first is, I'm sorry."

" But I did nothing wrong I say incredulously ! "

" No but you should apologize for making it seem she is not in a right state of mind ."

" Well she was not acting as my Sansa and WAS acting irrationally and I think to myself how did he know what I was thinking.

" Doesn't matter. It is a phrase that will save your hide or at least slow the onslaught to your ears. "

" The second is, Yes, Love, Dear, My Sweet, whatever pleases you. "

" The third is, Good Morning/Afternoon/Evening Beautiful, Gorgeous, Light of My life. It matters not if she still has sickness of morning's smell about her breath or she is sweaty or foul tempered. remember in order to keep the peace you must give a lot to keep her happy she will give much in bringing a child into the world in pain and blood. Not all survive the ordeal. "

" How many children have you ", I ask out of genuine curiosity.

" I have three wives in three different ports for a total of seventeen children between them ", he says with a broad smile his eyes track a movement and rises to take his leave of me motioning with his eyes and a wink at the approach of the light footfalls of my Lady Wife.

I know she is there and turn to look into her bright eyes, her cheeks still marked with shed tears. I pull her to me and whisper how beautiful she is to me and my love for grows with each passing day and how sorry I am if I have given offense.

She returns my words with two of her own.

" Show me. "

I pick her up and walk to our cabin and push the door closed with my backside. She strips her shift off with speed. She mounts the bed on her hands and knees her neck craned back to look at me with a small smile exposing her sex to me. I notice with a stiffening cock how wet she is and wonder briefly what exactly my Lady Wife was doing in here before coming to me. I kneel behind her and slide my cock deep into her slowly, I notice with a twinkle in my eye her toes curl and back arch. She matches my thrusts her, womaness sucking with internal squeezes at my engorged manhood. Pulling me greedily to her depths. I let loose every ounce of control to passion to pound her hard and deep from behind to her gasps of more, harder, faster...yes , yes like that ! Music to my ears. I feel her insides flutter and convulse on my spitting cock. I lay half astride her careful not to put my full weight on her thin frame. My wife spins to face me, my cock still within her. To look into my eyes. She plants a tender kiss on my mouth and her eyes drowse slowly closed.

At some point my softened member withdraws from her I notice the bright light of early morning peeks through our door. There is a damp stickiness to our sheets as I roll I see a mucous like substance stains our sheets and my thigh, it has a slight tinge of blood and follow it's trail to my wife's sex. I turn her over and she wakes in mid roll.

" Wife, are you in pain ? " I try to keep the rising panic I feel hidden. " I am fine ", she says, " Let me sleep some."

" Wife, you bleed." That gets her attention. Bolt upright she sits to look with wide and fear rimmed eyes. I throw on my breeches and dash sans shirt and boots to race to the ships healer, not a Maester but their equivalent.

" Come quickly ! " I bid her half dragging her aged self behind me.

I gain our cabin with the healer behind me. her medicinal kit rattling at her side. She lights a candle and motions for Sansa to mover her rump to the edge of the bed. She takes a smear on her bent finger and sniffs. Sansa is aghast. She tries to close her legs the crone slaps them open to peer at my Lady Wife's sex. She the rises and waggles a crooked finger at me pointing between my head my lower head and berating me for what I am unsure.

" She is saying if your brain was half the size of your cock you would have had the sense to realize a man of your sized cock and a baby cannot occupy the same space at the same time and you are fortunate her pregnancy was not further along because you could have caused great harm to mother or child up to and including death ", says the voice of my friendly adviser from last night. " Take heart, it is better to have a big cock, yes ? "

I come back to the now with a smile on my lips.


	17. Chapter 17 This is Unexpected

The evening meal passes uneventful. I watch Ned and his Sansa murmur to each other eliciting smiles form both. Dany leans to me and says.

" How did these two keep this romance from all of us for so long ? "

" I do not know but I am glad Ned has gotten his wild ways out of his system, Sandor and I have discussed this topic at length. "

" Where shall they make house at I ask casually ? "

" Tyrion and I thought perhaps the Tower of the Hand would suit them. It is spacious and well appointed. "

" You miss him do you not, I ask my friend. "

" I do, more than one would imagine, I miss his small form beside me in bed, I miss badgering him to blow out the candle and our long talks into the night. I miss everything she says with a light blush dusting her cheeks. He will be pleased you are happy with your glass growing house as well. "

Sandor squeezes my hand and leans into kiss my cheek.

" Wife, you ate so little. You are eating for two and at this rate you will starve my sons. "

" Sons you say ?! " I turn to him with a smile and kiss him soundly on the mouth. " The way my belly is swelling I think there may be two sons I carry or perhaps Culla is right and it is just that I show soon because this is my eleventh pregnancy. "

" Or perhaps I am right and you carry another set of twins he says brightly, I do not care the sex or how many, only that mother and child are safe. "

I look at Sandor and wonder if he will see the child I now carry to adulthood. My love is nearing fifty name days. He is still perfect in shape as he was when first we wed. I am thirty~five and know with certainty this pregnancy will be my last.

As if he knows what troubles my mind he rubs my belly and looks into my eyes. He suggests that Dany, myself and he go for a walk on the grounds to see how the preparations are coming.

We walk arm in arm with my free hand grasping Dany's we walk the inner parapets to look out over the land. Construction of more granaries is foremost on my mind. Our lesson learned upon returning to Westeros and seeing the suffering of people without food or shelter when the Winter came and along with it the white walkers.

No matter what my people will be fed, housed and armed.

" You have done well here in the North ", say's Dany. " You are beloved by your people, you walk without fear among them and Tyrion says even I am safe here, too. "

" Of course you are, Sandor is always armed as am I even within our walls. " " I would never want to be caught unawares, you cannot go in any part of the Keep without seeing people battle ready. " " The water barrels you see placed strategically around the grounds hold arrows and axes, wherever you see a carved wolf or hound you will find swords and bows. A dragon denotes medicine kits. "

People wishing to sell their wares may do so outside the walls. Their stalls are neatly maintained and as armed men and women patrol not only the walls but also the grounds beyond them. People have no need to lock their wares.

The North has the largest standing army. We also have the largest reserve. And with a smile I think to myself we also have dragons. Thanks to the tiny silver haired Queen next to me.

A small blonde child darts across our path followed and what had to be his sister her eyes widen and she stops in our path and does an awkward curtsy. Her brother remembers his manners and gives a bow and a gap toothed smile.. Their mother catches up to her children and smiles broadly. " Your Grace's ", she says.

" Dany this Myraenna, wife to Lukka and their children Gaen and Lucii, Myraenna is a weaver at Master Level. She instructs our young people in the art of the weave. Lukka is a Sgt. At Arms in the standing army. "

" I'm pleased to meet you, your Grace ", she curtsies to Dany.

" Oh no need for formalities good lady I am pleased to meet you as well. "

" Dany do you recall the wall hanging of dragons I gave you two years past ? "

" Oh yes, it is my favorite, It hangs in my rooms. "

" This is the women who created it. "

Dany's eyes light up and she grasps the woman in a hug and thanks her. " It truly is a marvel, I look at it at times expecting them to take flight they are so realistic. "

Myraenna blushes and returns Dany's hug. " Your words honor me Your Grace ", and with a curtsy she takes her leave of us.

" Why is it she curtsies to me but not you, asks Dany ? "

" Only when we hold court. When we are about the grounds we are people as any other. "

From the inner wall we watch the bustle of Winterfell. I can see Ned, his intended by his side instructing the small ones aged five through seven on level two horsemanship. I see Culla, spoon in hand perusing today's shipment of greens and her assistant and daughter number three haggles the price of fowl, while number one barks instructions to kitchen help what goes into the kitchen as opposed to what goes into our cold storage.

Taking a chapter from the Black Brothers we keep our perishables in a large natural cave on the North Eastern side of the keep. One of the many constructions that took place upon our return to Winterfell was extending the wall to our cold larder. The cave is lined with ice, cut and carted there. Culla uses about twenty~five percent of the space for her wrapped goods the hunters/butchers the other seventy~five percent. At any one time there is enough in cold storage and the granaries to feed every soul in Winterfell in upwards of eighteen months. I want it raised to two years.

On the back side of the hill of our cold storage gently slopes down for nearly a half mile to a sheer drop of many hundreds of feet, a swift running river at it's base.

The walls of Winterfell will not be held again by riff raff nor taken by false friends. Theon Greyjoy's remains yet bob in his glass jar of some foul smelling concoction Tyrion and Maester Obyrt invented for specimen preservation. He sit's in the Hall of History as a warning to other potential turn coats and dishonorable persons. The North is generous to friends and allies but we exact a heavy toll for treachery.

The walk and fresh air is invigorating. A cold wind makes Dany and my hair dance in swirls and wisps and Dany's nose and cheeks are reddened from the chill. As the sun slides to the horizon I suggest we go inside for warmed cider or cacao and perhaps sweets.

We gain entry to the common area of our apartments and see with a glad heart a roaring fire blazing in the hearth. As if on cue a serving girl comes bearing a tray laden with steaming mugs warm, spiced cider for Dany and my love and hot cacao for me. I look over the treats and settle on a shortbread smeared generously with cacao spread and a lemon tart and a cinnamon bun.. As I settle in with my hoard of sweets Sandor pinches and slaps my rump and says.

" At this rate wife your backside will exceed your belly's growth ", and waggles his eyebrow. There was a time when that would have brought me to tears or rage but as with all, age and experience have tempered my reactions.

Dany near spits her cider out and laughs out loud while apologizing between giggles.

I join in their mirth and go to cuddle in my husbands lap, his strong arms wrapped about me. I offer him a bite of treat he declines but brushes a crumb from my chin. He looks at me with eyes of brown and...

I can always lose myself in their depths...

The scene warmth of the hearth and company of my good friend is replaced by that of salt air and cramped quarters. I lay on Sandor's arm and reflect on the past week. My sickness of morning still sometimes plagues my days but not as badly. The cramps however worsen it seems with each passing day. More oft than not I am awakened by my legs drawn up frog like and writhing.

I snuggle more closely running my hands across my husband's broad back and place gentle kisses between his shoulders. His skin browned by time spent shirtless on deck. Where my parts nearly glowed with a pink and painful cast. I wrap my arm around him to rub the hair of his chest, noticing my belly pushes against his lower back and he stirs. He rolls over in the small confines of our bunk, no small feat.

" Good morning my wife ", he says and as is his ritual he turns me over on my back to rub lovingly my big belly and that which grows inside me to speak soft greetings to our child. As if knowing his (?) father's voice the baby kicks and turns to the sound of his voice.

It delights Sandor to no end to feel the growing life inside me move. We watched in fascination one evening as my belly jiggled and flinched in a measured rhythm until Sandor said his son (?) must have the hiccups. Watching for a few minutes more I agreed.

Though I love the time aboard the Sea Spear my legs long for land. Upon asking Sandor why so long a time asea he said simply that Syrio and the first mate agreed a direct route was unwise as was the usual smuggler's routes. We took a long a circuitous way instead.

I am more than half way through my pregnancy and cannot wait to meet our child. I long also for the ability to hold my water. It seems half of my time is spent sitting a privy pot. The bigger my belly gets the more I make water I think with a sigh and wonder to myself if the last month will be spent seated upon the privy. I am alarmed also at my drastic taste in foods. Cheese makes me ill just thinking about eating it whereas the pickled parts I have yet to identify I cannot get enough of. I asked Sandor once what the parts were and he said with a grimace it's best I don't know.

When the sun hit the horizon to the end of another day, I notice it is still quite warm. Get used to it my husband says. Where we go the sun blazes like a great burning eye to sear the flesh off the unwary.

We gain our cabin and Sandor goes to our chest to retrieve the oilskin package. " My wife...I have waited to show you this ", our game of subterfuge must continue on shore we go to meet two men, one is known to me. " " The garb you must wear...It will require you to expose your breast, only one he says hastily. And you'll be painted as well. "

I blink. I blink again. " Only one I say and painted as well. " I think of a hundred retorts. Then I look to his cheek, at the daemon now gracing it. There was a time when I would have slapped someone for speaking to me in such a manner. I know my Lord Husband would never lead me to folly.

His head is bowed his broad shoulders slump into themselves. I go to him and it is my turn to raise his face upwards to look in his eyes. " Husband, I trust you with my love and our lives ", as I rub his smooth shaven head. His eyes smile to match his crooked grin.

" I have something else to tell you, Emyra will paint you. " My eyes meet his once more only instead of love now spark with a barely contained rage. " You will allow this."


	18. Chapter 18 Familiar Faces

** This chapter is dedicated to Margaret John, the actress who portrayed, " Old Nan ", story teller and grandmother to Hodor. She passed away on 2, February, 2011. As a reader of the books when I watched the series I said, that's her as I pictured her in my mind. **

The slattern glides into our small home. Sandor wisely keeps his bulk between us." My Lady..Peace let me show you something. "

My blue eyes narrow and I think to myself, show me something is it. I will show you the feel of my fist to your painted lips and the taste of the deck again.

Emyra puts down her basket steps to me and places her hand on her forehead and spins slowly and says.

"See me as I truly am ", as her hand slides slowly down her face.

She removes her hand and before me stands a crone of ancient years. Her rheumy eyes glint bright, she is still dressed in silken pantaloons, her belly stretched and flabby, her breasts thin and sagging nearly to her midriff the nipples pointing to the deck. She has but three fingers on her right hand.

" This is what you feared my young beauty. "

I stand there mouth agape with glassy eyes. A small smile creeps on Sandor's face and he leaves us.

" Why did you do it I ask ", speaking of the incident on the deck.

" For two reasons child. One to be sure you truly cared for your big brute, the second to see if he was a faithless dog or one loyal to his mistress. "

" And if he was disloyal ? "

" He would have tasted steel between his ribs and been thrown overboard, the game of thrones is played even here child. " " Do you still love lemon cakes my sweet ? "

" I start and peer at her. How would you know that ? "

" I have warded you for many a year sweet Sansa. from your time of birth, through your years at Winterfell and on your journey to the viper's den of King's Landing. I have never been more than a few steps from you. " She once again slides her hand down face and before me is Shae. My eyes widen startled. She smiles at me from big brown eyes.

I sit dumbfounded for a few moments and say, "Shae was not at Winterfell ", as she turns her back to me to rummage in her basket. " No, but I was ", as I stare into the face of Old Nan as she turns to me once again.

" I don't understand ", I say with honesty.

" No reason you should, the game is played by unseen hands. " " It is good you went with the Hound. the alternatives were grim. Little Finger's plan was to have you wedded to Lord Robyn of The Vale, The Whore wanted you at first wedded to her Bastard that failing you would were to be wedded to the Imp to keep the succession of Winterfell intact but controlled by the Lannister's. "

" However you do have friends, people owing a blood debt to your Lord Father, people remembering the kindness of both he and your Lady Mother. " " You and your husband go to meet these allies, remember your steel girl, it will carry you through the dark times ahead. " " That and your fierce protector that is your husband. He has loved you from afar for sometime you know. "

" He has said as much. ", I admit.

" Do you know when it started though ? "

" No, not really. " She rummages once more to produce a battered cup. I smile and take it in my hands. It is pewter and heavy and scratches and dents mar it's surface. It is the same cup he handed to me for months on the road.

" Turn it upside down and look at it's maker's mark, MWF..." " It's mark is Mikken of Winterfell, Master weapon's maker of my Lord Father. "

" How did this come to be with us on the road ? "

" Lest you think this is stolen property, I will tell you it's story. "

" He was in the hall of Winterfell, the King's Guard flanking the Baratheon's and the Bastard. He was given leave to eat, drink, fuck whatever he chose. He was thirsty and up came a Lady of bluest eyes, coppery hair and small of waist. She offered him a mug which he took and drained. She came back round again to offer him a trencher with warm stew. He never set the mug down. He instead went and wrapped it in his bedroll. He went to Mikken and lamented the destruction of his handy work as his horse trod upon it when he accidentally dropped it and bade him to make another to replace it. He paid in coin in advance. "

" Do you know that was the first time a female ever approached him to give him anything he hadn't paid for ? " " Do you remember who it was that showed him this small kindness ? "

" It was I ", my father bade me to show him courtesy I remember. As I was soon to be betrothed and it was his opinion I should befriend him because as the Bastard's Sworn Shield he could some day save my life as well. I balked at first only to receive a lecture from my Lady mother.

" You are blessed to be born of noble birth from the joined lines of two ancient houses and I've a good mind to send you to the stables to muck out a paddock or two to see what it is like to work for everything you get from clothing, to food to a roof above your head. " My eyes widened in horror. My father laughs and said, " Wife, enough. I'm not so sure I would be eager to make his acquaintance if I were a young woman either, he is quite fearsome to behold from his great height to his marred visage. "

Thinking of that time past makes my eyes mist with tears and brings me back to a small cabin on the sea.

" What is it that is intended with all the moves and counter moves ? " I ask Emyra.

" That a true born Stark take up your father's seat at Winterfell. That Stark is you. Enough of the past, let us concentrate instead on your future Sansa. An heir grows in your belly. Many would still see you dead and the child in your belly as well. All that stands between you an some well paid stranger's blade is a man who loves you and a few faithful friends. And one in particular you have yet to meet. "

" Now, Sandor's disguise is set. By the time he puts on his new wardrobe it will be complete. You we will work on this day. " She cuts a half foot of my hair off and rubs an oily concoction through it. When she is done the color is a deep, deep brown with reddish highlights. She applies a colored balm to my skin and it darkens as well to a golden bronze, my nipples too darken more to an exotic dusky brown.

She helps me into this gauzy dress light and airy dyed in many shades of blue. I wear an opened shoe a piece of leather between my toes to keep it in place. My bare breast's nipple tightens to my embarrassment. " Be not shy girl, you are a true beauty in any hued skin. Remember, you are still noble born. Remember you are of the North and remember you go to win a kingdom. Hold your head high we go now to the deck. "

I gain the deck to a bustle of activity. No one pays me any notice even though I am exposed. Every face that turns to mine meets my eyes but strays not lower. I see my husband. He smiles and walks to greet me, scooping me up in his arms. He is dressed in an odd manner to my eye. He wears pantaloons of white linen, bloused out from over the knee black boots. Shin and knee guards in bright metal overlap the thick leather. A shirt of linen lies underneath a shirt of chain mail. More bright metal adorns him as lobstered gloves, gauntlet, collar and shoulder guards now grace him. Bane still lies strapped about him to rest at his back. His secondary sword strapped at his hip along with assorted daggers I know he keeps about his person. My small dagger rests on my hip in a gaudy to my eye bejeweled scabbard.

He points to the prow and in the distance I can see Quarth our destination.

I see Syrio and he gives me a wink and comes up to Sandor and I. " We are very nearly there. I know what the one man looks like he is hard to miss. You know of his companion. You will not speak each others names in fact let me do the talking. We go to meet them at a safe house of a now dead slave trader. "

As we near our point of docking I am greeted by the sight of many colored pavilions and vendors stands and smells of rich foods and animals and such as I have never before seen. I look in awe at animals I have seen only in books. A striped horse like beasts, Elephants with big tusks and a long snout, ugly beasts with two great bumps on their backs, monkey's of every description. Birds of every hue grace stalls as well.

As we dock I am flanked by Sandor and Syrio who is now a tall man of ebon and skin bald pate with the brand of a daemon upon his cheek. I see another daemon branded man of blue eyes and bald also, he winks at me and says worry not child. They all wear a tiny cap of shining metal with a swatch of white linen trailing down their backs covering their necks. Stranger is brought up as is my nameless mare and two other horses one black with a white blaze and two white stockings and a pale grey with a speckled rump. We mount our horses and descend into the city flanked by Sandor, Syrio and Emyra in the rear. Syrio in a loud voice in an unknown tongue scatters the people milling about. We go through the main gate of Quarth and go round and round and see crude paintings of the Harpies on walls and houses. It looks brown the color of old blood I muse.

We come at last to a well appointed house with a gurgling fountain and are greeted by young boys who take our mounts to be stabled. We are led by a small smiling woman a brand so old upon her cheek it is indiscernible. We are led into the high ceiling room that opens to a balcony with a view of the sea. Our small hostess motions for us to sit.

Fresh fruit and a wonderful juice that is sweet yet tart. Though I have sat the " men " remain standing their eyes always moving. A familiar form hulks into view, it is the man Syrio first portrayed in all his ugly glory. Beside him is another man who's face is hidden by he cowl of his robe. " Good to see you again dog. " He says to my husband.

" Show your face old man ", is his response.

He does. Before me is the shaved face of the former Captain of the King's Guard, Ser Barriston Selmy. That fat man extends his hand and says, " I am Strong Balerus. " I look to him and look to Syrio (?)

" Let's come inside away from prying eyes. "

"So fugitive one and two meet fugitive three. I will take you to meet the fourth shortly, we will also be joined by Lord Tyrion, fugitive number five. "

Sandor's eyebrows crawl up his forehead.

" It seems Tyrion took it upon himself to rid Westeros of his Lord Father. Tywin Lannister got a bolt through his gut for his trouble. It is both a blessing and a curse. The good is we no longer have to contend with his battle lore and canniness. The bad would be no one controls his rabid lioness of a daughter the Queen Regent. You will be interested to know the Bastard is also dead and the realm seeks Tyrion for his murder. "

" Dead, Good then we can go back to Westeros then right ? " I look to Sandor.

" No child, not yet. We need to gather our thoughts and forces. There is more moving about then Lannister's and their ilk. Something ancient and deadly moves beyond the wall. And if we can not reinforce it with men who will fight, all truly is lost. "

" Come we go now to meet the fourth. "

Down and around we went to the main avenue to wind our way back towards the apex of this strange and wondrous city. The sun beat hot upon my skin and I wondered how the men fair in there layers and small helmets. We stop at last to a great bronze gate. Before it are a dozen men naked except for loincloths vambraces, shields, spears, short swords and funny conical helms. They see Ser Barriston bow slightly and two move to open the gate.

We are led along a large expanse of marble to a raised platform. Upon it sits a woman of my age on a bench with silver white hair. As we approach she bounds down with light steps to greet Ser Barriston.

" You have brought them she exclaims ! "

She turns to greet me and says.

" Be welcome here Sansa Stark~Clegane of Winterfell. I am Danaerys Storm Born, Mother of Dragons, Queen of Quarth. "

I stare in wonder at her eyes, they truly are near violet in color. She is tiny, several inches shorter than my height of five feet seven inches. Her smile is wide showing perfect white teeth.

" Let us have refreshments and discuss current events. "

We all sit about a round table. It is a dark wood inlaid with mother of pearl to depict a sea scene.

" I want you to be at ease here. " Danaerys says to Sandor and I. " We have much to discuss and plans to lay. " Says the tiny Queen her shoulder length hair as white as snow with a slight silver cast to it.

Emboldened by being at the grown up table for once I ask, " Why the subterfuge, why must my husband be burned yet again, why is my hair and skin dyed ? "

Sandor grasps my hand to give a slight squeeze...

" My Queen it is time for bed once you nod off in my lap ", my husband whispers as he squeezes me gently.


	19. Chapter 19 My Husband's Kisses

**Hello, I couldn't figure out how to break up the love scene without losing something of it's continuity so I'm apologizing in advance for a 665 word paragraph. I'm sure the betas out there are already cringing.**

My sweet Sandor carries me to our rooms and helps me undress. A fire has been laid and crackles merrily in the hearth it is warm and cozy. As I lay snuggled in bed I watch my husband disrobe. I know the lines of his body as my own. Every muscle every scar. His broad back flexes as he pulls his shirt over his head and sits to pull his boots off and stands again to unlace his breeches and steps out of them. His backside is firm, his thighs strong he turns to get into bed with me and pulls me close. I lay my head on his chest and run my fingers through the hair of his belly and chest.

He strokes my back and tips my face to meet his for a kiss.

Have I told you of my husbands kisses. I love them. He starts out slow our tongues barely touching and by slow degrees a complete exploration of my mouth. Sucking on my tongue and running his tongue behind my teeth. He puts me on my back a leans over me cupping the back of my head in his left hand, his right kneading my left breast paying careful attention to my hardened nipple. He breaks our kiss to place licks and kisses on my neck and shoulders. He takes a nipple in his mouth and rolls his tongue around my pink tip. He then sucks in earnest and I grind my breast into his mouth the sensations he elicits moistens my woman parts. He spends much time alternating between squeezing my breasts and licking, sucking, flicking their sensitive points. My hips roll I want him, on me, in me now. It is not to be as he moves between my legs so continue his kisses to my belly, my hip bones and inner thighs. He teases coming oh so near to the core of my sex that fairly pulses begging for his tongue. I feel him blow gently and sucks on my lower lips, sliding his tongue in and out of my wet folds, all the while still applying his touch to my nipples the sensation between them and my woman parts driving me half wild with want and need. He knows what he does. I can tell by the smile in his eyes when they meet mine. He then graces me with one of his long fingers and toys with my opening but teases once more by giving me half it's length, he then gives me two and I beg him him to give me his cock no longer shocked at the word after long years playing this game of our joining. I thrust my sex in his face wanting the release he has so far denied me. He brushes a quick thumb over of my hard bead of womanhood and sends a rush sensation that sends quick fingers of desire all over my arched body. I spread my legs wide and envelope my long legs around his waist and pull myself towards my desire. My bud swollen and my sex wet and open, hungry for his manhood. He thumbs my sex giving me wave after wave of warmth that spreads, he pinches it and unwraps my legs from around his waist to say he wants to taste me again, burying his face in between my pale legs to suck on my bud to bring me almost to my come only to lick and suck my inner thighs and run his fingers up and down my sides stiffening my tender nipples once more. My need for him is now fevered and he relents to place the head of his cock against my lips and slowly gives me what my body screams for, he glides it to mid shaft then withdraws it slowly and keeps this pace as I try to get more inches of his glorious cock, I like saying it aloud in a hushed whisper and I think he likes to hear of my desire for him. He will not give me his full length, I know from over twenty years of love making I will not get his full length for some months but I do get his wonderful girth..My Lord Husband is thick and fills me completely and with each stroke and pinches and flicks he administers to my hard bud and gives me a hard come and my insides hug and suck at him in fluttering pulses to dance and draw his seed in waves as his eyes close and he vibrates with constraint that it takes not to plunge head long to my full depth.

As we lay intertwined in each others arms, spent and sated he asks of me one thing.

" Wife, I love you, you are the only woman I have ever and will ever love." " Promise me you will not try for another child, ever again my Little Bird, I fear for you." " This pregnancy is already taking a toll on you at this early stage, by my counting you are at nearly four cycles of the moon, with another five to go correct ? "

I look into his deep brown eyes and nod my head yes.

Satisfied he pulls me closer and plants a kiss on my head and murmurs a good night...

As I lay in his arms in safety I think of another time when our future was far from secure...

One of the men in the funny hats comes and says something into the ear of Ser Barriston he looks to Danaerys and says simply.

" He's Here."

Two more men walk in with two dwarfs being herded between them. Both bedraggled and filthy. One is Tyrion Lannister the other a woman unknown to me.

" Take the young lady to her rooms and offer her a bath and refreshments please, she may join us later." says Danaerys.

" Be welcome Lord Tyrion "

I stare at the assembled group and crawl into a seat and pour a cup of wine. I am alarmed when I am picked up like a child and a rather large cushion is placed under my ass. I see though it is a good thing without it only the top of my greasy and tumbled hair would show.

" I see all the players are assembled, what do you want of me ? "

" To join us in our endeavors " , says the violet eyed beauty.

" To what end ? "

" To regain a kingdom that is my right. "

" To restore Winterfell to a true born Stark " , from Ser Barriston

" To correct a multitude of wrongs and bring a lasting peace ", says I.

" To defeat a threat greater than any sword or dragon ", says Syrio.

" That my wife may sleep in peace and our children know no fear or threat ", from the Hound.

He purses his lips and scratches the remnants of his nose. " I'm in . "

Tyrion's gaze catches my eye. " Is there something you need ask of me ? " " Not ask, merely state, I know it is small comfort but know truly I am sorry for the loss of your brother and Lady mother. " " It is a sad and despicable business when safe conduct is no more than words on the wind. "

" They will be avenged, I swear it. " I look to my husband and he watches the exchange his jaw set in what I have come to recognize as irritation. I grasp his huge hand in mine, stroking the lobstered metal encasing it. " Be at ease my love, we go on to bring about change. "

" You mistrust me, Clegane ? "

" I do not know if mistrust is the proper word, I remember quite clearly how your Lord father and sister conspired to wed her and bed her and take control of her birthright. "

" For which my Bastard of a nephew paid for with a blackened face and agonizing death. " " My father paid for his misjudgment and his brand of cruelty to me and let us not forget his hypocritical stance on whores with a quarrel though his bowel, the look on his face I shall take to mine own grave. "

I have to make water. I have had to make water since we first sat to the table. I gain my feet unsteadily, Sandor ever at my side to guide me and my belly towards the privy.

Tyrion says nothing at my state but his mismatched eyes take in my big belly and says with a smirk, " Good on you, Clegane. " Which is met with a cross look from me and a truly frightening look from my husband.

Danaerys light steps catch up to us and giddy like a child she volunteers to show us to our rooms. When we cross the threshold neither of us were prepared for such ...Opulence, beautifully crafted rugs that would have been proudly displayed on a wall in Westeros are on the floor for walking on. An intricate pattern in marble and inlaid with bits of smooth glass adorn the parts of the floor I can see. A heavy table on squat legs sits in the center of our room, cushions strewn about it. A bowl of fruit is at it's center. Tall windows are open to a view of the sea, filmy, sheer curtains held back by ties shimmer and dance at their tips from the light breeze off the water.

" Come ", she says. I follow her to a room unlike any I have ever seen. It too is open but the windows are up high and penned in by a beautiful depiction of mermaids an men done in tiny colored squares, applied to a wall about five feet high.

" This is the privy room. "

I see two low slung chair type things on the far wall. Both have water running through them but one from a spout. You sit here, she motions. And you clean yourself here and points to the one with a spout. It is strange I think to myself and when they give me privacy I awkwardly squat upon its marble surface. When I am finished I go to rise and find I am bound to this contraption by my weight and imbalance...This belly of mine is causing all manner of problems I think but rub it lovingly none the less. I call out to my husband and he sees my plight and finds some degree of humor in it I see by the barely contained smile on his mouth. His eyes dance merrily.

Danaerys asks if all is well and I tell her it is hard to rise from such a height with my ever expanding girth. She nods once and she eyes my belly with longing in her gaze..

" We go now to your bed chambers then ", she leads the way her silver hair swaying to the rhythm of her slim hips as she takes dainty steps.

If I thought our sitting room was splendid it pales in comparison to the bed chambers. Instead of multiple hued rugs the floor to covered in all manner of animal hides. Some with the heads still attached. Another low slung table laden with fruits and breads, cheeses, small oval fruit (?), brown and green in color, grapes, oranges, apples and peaches fill an ornately wrought golden bowl. It design matches the goblets lying unfilled on the table and the pitchers as well. Carved images in jade and marble depict scenes of war and love. A white stone (?) carving many feet long adorns a table in the image of a writing dragon.

" It is carved from the single tusk of a sea beast as big around as an oxen, with a whiskered face and fin like limbs as a fish but clawed at the tips." Danaerys volunteers. " They are found only where the ice flows in the water and cold reigns. "

" Yes indeed in the North we call them Walrys and the bulls are quite large and fearsome " Her eyes widen and she asks with genuine awe, " You have seen them with your own eyes ? " " I have I say, they live in great herds with one bull and many cows. "

" You will have to tell me of the wonders of the North during your time here when you are rested. " " Evening meal will not be for several hours, someone will be sent to you at the proper time ", she says with a small smile. She glances quickly at my Sandor with a look of not want but as though he reminds her of someone.

I thank her for her kindness and she walks quickly away. I hear her lilting voice for a time until Sandor comes to me to wrap me in his arms. " Are you not hot, husband ? " " Not really, I am glad though I have not all my layers in this heat, I would cook as a pig on a spit were I so clad. "

After the excitement of new surroundings and of new met people I find I am well and truly ready for a short nap. I got to our huge bed all softness and silk with sheer drapes hung from the posts of our canopy. I nestled into it's fluffed expanse my Lord husband cupping my face to lean forward and kiss my forehead. " Sleep my wife " and he slides down to nuzzle my belly and murmur a father's love to his unborn child. My last thought is how my belly jiggles and shakes as the child within greets his familiar voice when Sandor talks to him (?)...


	20. Chapter 20 Rider's Return

The race is on, not knowing exactly how far we are ahead of the now frantic and enraged Dame, Summer. Our stops have been few. Only to relieve ourselves as we now do. I flex my stubby fingers and try to rub circulation back into my ass. Even gloved and garbed in fine wool and fleece the hard drive of our flight takes it's toll on my misshapen body.

" How much time do you think we have, Father ? "

" The length of time it took her to find, kill and consume about twenty-five hundred to three-thousand pounds of meat. Though the male has fed her this past turn of the moon it is merely enough to keep her alive.

" Let us hope she had multiple hunts and wasn't fortunate enough to find an Auroch wandering about. "

" You still haven't answered my question, father. "

" I believe somewhere between three quarters of an hour to one and one half hours, remember, she isn't bogged down by riders but she does have a full belly. "

" Enough talking my son, it's time we were on our way. "

" One more question though father, why do we bring ALL the eggs to Winterfell ? "

" Because your mother and Queen commands it. "

My son is much like me, inquisitive to a fault. He not only wants to know the why of things but the how. Thankfully, the only thing he received from me is his thirst for knowledge and a thatch of thick, dark blonde curls. I will not lie. When my sweet Lady wife announced with smiles and tears that she carried a child, I was elated but fearful. I would not wish my physical state on my child. But when Daenery's gave birth to our first born a beautiful, healthy and perfect little girl I cried.

I remember as if it were yesterday. Symin my assistant to my science projects running up to me breathless to tell me, " It comes, it comes your Grace ! " I smile to myself on the length of time it took me to calm Symin to find out that, " It ", was my long awaited child.

When I gained the birthing rooms my heart broke to see my wife writhing in twisted sheets, her face a mask of pain. I rushed to her as fast as my legs could carry me, to offer what comfort I could.

Having washed carefully my hands and replaced my boots with slippers and garbed in something resembling a night dress.

" Perhaps you could sit behind her and support her back ", suggests Maelon, first mid-wife to the court of Queen's Landing. Maester Laeon gives a quick nod to me and I struggle to gain the bed top. Once there I take sweet Dany in my arms and whisper words of encouragement to her, my left hand on her shoulder, my right stroking her sweat drenched locks.

" It is important to keep drawing large breaths, your Grace ", says Maelon, her eyes bent to my Lady wife's nether area.

My thoughts are broken by the scream that Dany let's rip from her mouth. I squeeze her tighter.

Symin drags the looking glass to Maelon's back and adjusts it's pitch so both Dany and I can see the emergence of our child. His faces flushes a deep and lasting red and I think to myself, poor virginal boy.

We are greeted by the sight of a small blood smeared head. " Soon now, push yet again your Grace, yes that's it push ! "

With another push I see the head, face pointed downward of our first born. Once the entire head breaches the world the shoulders emerge, I am greeted by the squalls of a pink and thrashing, blood smeared baby. Maelon turns the baby over and announces we have a little girl. I see with relief she is well formed and hear she has a healthy set of lungs.

Dany grasps at the air wanting to hold our first born. After a quick cleaning and once swaddled, Maelon places our little girl to my wife's breast for her first feeding. She sucks greedily at the nipple after rooting for it, mouth working until she clasps it in her tiny mouth. I tear traces my cheek as I stroke her tiny hand and notice how her fingers are well formed as she curls them around my own . She is bald mostly with a fine down of fuzz like that of a peach gracing her head. She is perfect. I am glad beyond measure that my offspring is not burdened with the curse of my imperfection...

My now of the moment is none less stressful. Wrapped in heavy clothing the cold still seeps in. I cannot wait to gain Winterfell. As I see it's parapets off in the distance I am most pleased. I know by now an alarm has been raised to our return. We will gain the rookery in less than two minutes. I am hoping all is in preparation for what is to come...

We rise and dress I choose riding breeches with a skirt overlay because I know today I ride Summer once more. I choose boots of cowhide the rise over my knees. I have fore gone the girdle, instead I pull a linen shirt over my head and another for modesty's sake and then a fleece lined jacket. I wind a heavy woolen scarf about my neck and grab my flying cap, also of fleece. Sandor is dressed similiarly.

" Are you ready my Queen ? " His eyes smile his, " Riding grin ", I see.

It is funny how comfortable he now is when he is astride his winged mount, Halcion. I remember when Dany presented him with his egg. The discussion THAT night was humorous to say the least.

Timing is everything and as we get ready to greet the day a runner comes to pound our door to announce the sighting of Tyrion and Traenyr.

" We ride this day my Queen ", says my sweet Sandor with a squeeze to my shoulders.

All activity stops within the walls, my people safely gone to ground to wait out the return of Summer, my Dame.

The rookery is miles from the Keep. As we enter the main courtyard Tyrion climbs down to be greeted by hugs and kisses from his Queen. I see she too is in riding garb.

Dragon's are summoned to Winterfell by a horn of calling, it is a large horn mounted on the northernmost parapet made of a strange and bright metal from across the sea called, " Brass", It is beautiful when polished and with the wet weather of the North it must needs constant care to keep it gleaming. Each dragon has his or her own series of notes. I hear now the strains of Drogon's calling. More than one male can be among each other if the others are either sub adults, belong to the same flight group and are lesser males or neutered. Drogon is the Alpha of our flight group it goes without saying. Tyrion's mount Wrath, my Summer, Sandor's Halcion, Traenyr's SwiftWing and my namesake's mount Swatalii are all from the second hatching. Lord Seaworth's mount Argaelia from the third as are the Night's Watch mounts.

Drogon hovers above our group to land gently to the ground. He nuzzles his mistress and she speaks softly to him. She gains her seat upon him and commands him to rise to join her son who has been flying lazy figure eights in the sky above us. Tyrion having deposited Summer's remaining clutch near the rookery. Now remounts Wrath and joins her and Traenyr in the skies.

My sweet Sandor's mount Halcion lands in the courtyard and shambles over to greet his master. Though fluid and graceful in the air they are sometimes ungainly on the ground, lacking forelegs to stabilize them when they are aground. his hop, shuffle and tottering gait is funny to watch as I smile. Halcion, nostrils flexing to take in all the scents of Winterfell. His huge head mere inches away as he snuffles us both. Sandor takes to his saddle that lies at the juncture betwixt his long sinuous neck and his shoulders, he steadies Halcion so I may gain my seat in front of Sandor and we too rise to the sky.

Sandor loves to fly. He has a constant smile playing on his lips when he rides his dragon.

" I love you ", he says giving me a slight squeeze. "

" How much is that ? " I playfully ask.

" With all that is within me and more, in this life of mortals. " " If it is possible that I may love and ward you from beyond, I shall do it then as well, my Wife. " I snuggle closer to him my back pressed against the broad expanse of his chest, his arm encompassing me as his hands are on the reins. and off we go to the rookery.

We land and Sandor says, " I do not like that you will be alone to face Summer's ire. "

" I will be fine and you know it ", I say with a quick kiss and a wink. He gains the ground first to help me from the saddle.

" She comes ", I hear Sandor say as he once again rises to take to the skies.

" So she does ", I say to myself aloud as I watch the small speck in the distance get larger. Her bellowing to be met by the other dragons who now weave and bob beside and in front of her to slow her approach. I stand my ground as an angry Dame lands, her neck ranging, her nostrils flare. I crack a Riders whip made from braided Auroch hide. The whips do no harm, a dragon's adult scale,s all but impenetrable, the sound rather than the threat of injury makes them take heed. She stops and her right golden eye meets mine unblinking. Only four of her unhatched eggs remain, the others already in the hatchery. A dragon's egg will only hatch under heat from a constant flame. Else they remain inert as evidenced by the eggs gifted Daenerys by the fat man, Illyreo. They were many years old but still viable.

Summer nuzzles her eggs and picks them up in her jaws and eats them. It is not known for fact on why a Dame will do this. The Maester's and Lord Tyrion had debated the potential reasons for long hours on the subject.

When she is finished with her somewhat ghoulish meal she snuffles over to me once more and gives a dragon nuzzle that near knocks me from my feet. It is time to be a Rider and I gain her shoulders with effort , do to the swell of my belly. At one word from my lips does she take flight...And I am free.

I see Ned behind his wife to be, his Sansa on her mount Swatalii, I laugh at her choice of names, remembering the first time, I too heard that word. I love the feel in my belly when Summer banks and think the babe in my belly likes it too if his energetic kicks are any indication . I join the other Rider's in the sky's as we weave and dive, ascend and turn, we are amid a dance of dragon's that happens only in the skies above Westeros. Something that has not been viewed for many generations.


	21. Chapter 21 Friends and Family

** Hello, I added a little bit to this chapter because it just didn't quite feel right hope the extra paragraph at the end makes it flow a little better. Special thanks to QueenofThorns82, crushnotsosecret, ccsunflower, ScienceofSleep0327, your kind words are awesome and I thank you !**

Once our dragon's have their play time ( and ours as well ), we all land at the rookery and take to our land bound mounts to Winterfell once more .

We gain the courtyard to find it alive with people scurrying to assigned tasks about the grounds . The wedding will take place amid my garden in three days time. Planted shrubs in large clay pots dot it's grounds and a platform has been erected in the front so all may see the goings on . eight days ago the wagon train arrived bearing Sansa's wedding accouterments that my soon to be daughter had thought to send out from Queen's Landing weeks before they arrived by dragon .

Raven's have come and went informing us of persons intentions of coming . The only one to decline was the Lord of Bravenhal, Lynon Bravelight do to his broken leg received while breaking a horse . His wife Sian Bravenhal ~ Bravelight comes in his stead to represent their house . Lynon is the namesake of Culla's brother and one of the siblings who's ride all those years ago bought Sandor the time he needed to get me across the sea to Quarth . A price paid for in blood. I remind Gundr to put Lady Whrynn on the first level as her great weight makes it difficult to climb steps of any height .

After we all change, we meet our children in the hall for evening meal .

Our hall is open to all people if they hunger and most days we take at least one meal there . It is a favorite haunt of the Direwolves as well, do to dropped or slopped morsel as Sandor puts it . Our twins sit always together and in between their elder brothers Jon and Ned . I wonder how Jon will take the separation from Ned when he marries and makes a life of his own with his bride . That is the exact thing on my mind when Ned approaches his intended by his side .

" Mother, father, we have something we want to discuss with you . "

Sandor and I both put down our spoons and Sandor straightens and casts an eye to me, with one cocked brow, one which asks what is this and my silent reply of pursed lips, signaling, I have no idea .

" I am worried for my brother . ever since we were small does he follow me . " " What will become of him once my Lady wife and I leave for Queen's Landing ? "

His Sansa breaks the silence with, " We were thinking to ask if it is agreeable that we take him with us for a time . "

" You are prepared to be not only brother and sister to him but ward him as if he were your child ? " Sandor waits for a reply with a measured look in his eyes and continues with, " Your brother needs supervision, if he wanders off it could be the death of him you know . " " He is not as others, his mind will forever be that of a child only with the strength of two men and when the weather turns to thunder he will come charging into your bedchamber regardless of what you may doing to burrow like a mole under the covers with you, from the fear of it . "

" Yes we know father but he is my brother and I too would miss his grinning, music and even him farting on me, Sansa has experienced it first hand now that Jon has graced her his acceptance ", says Ned, Sansa trying her best to supress a smile beside him .

" Let your father and I discuss this potential arrangement this night . " They both smile and walk hand in hand to sit next to the twins, Jon on the other side of them .

Brandae comes up to crawl in Sandor's lap and I see by his wince she has found his stones once more . I giggle to have Sandor throw a look my way and a quiet comment of, " Well how would you like it if she stepped on your teats ? " To which I retort, " Try having nine children attached to your teats by their mouths for a year a piece . " His shudder is my only reply I see with a small snicker .

We have neither seen nor heard Dany or Tyrion since we parted company in the doorway of our own rooms . They giggled like children as they went to their first level rooms .

Gundr approaches and apologizes for his interruption . He presents my husband and I with a list of tomorrows court. I see the usual list of requests for clemency, land disputes, livestock theft, breaking of faith ( To which my husband and I both take a dim view ), a request for contract renegotiation and an accusation of rape, to which we take an even dimmer view .

I ask Anjelae and Landon to join us. " Daughter, I must ask you two sit with your father and I in court tomorrow. " As she peruses the list her eyes land on the rape charge . " Mother, I do not know if I can do this ", she says, her face blanching. " We do not ask this of you to cause pain or discomfort, but you must someday sit in judgement without your father or my counsel to guide you . " " How will I know of his innocence or guilt ? " " You do not, which is why you must listen carefully to the evidence both for and against him ", says Sandor. Her father leans forward to grasp her hands in his and look her in the eye . " My child I would give much that you had not gone through what you have, you are a good person but always remember to judge as a mother, because in the end that is what you shall be to the people of this Land once your mother and I are no more." Landon I see, gives her a squeeze of encouragement . " I will do my best ", she says. Sandor gives her a pat on the hands and leans back to grasp mine .

Gundr returns to announce that Lord Jaime and his Lady wife Brienne, formally of Tarth, have come to Winterfell as well as Lady Suozahn, now mistress of the rebuilt Twins . I am elated and know Dany will be as well once she hears our good friends are here to join us .

In strides Jaime, his lady wife herding their children who range in age from just under one year up to nearly eighteen . The youngest is called, " Stafinii ", which means surprise in the sea traders tongue. Her nearest sibling is ten years her elder. I muse to myself that had to be Jaime's doing with a dash of Tyrion with that moniker .

My husbands strides to meet Jaime . A handshake and nod, the usual greeting of men . Myself on the other hand waddles to meet Brienne who engulfs me in her embrace . I am taller than most having reached my adult height of five feet ten inches. She is a half head taller than me. I remember meeting her and thought with admiration she was the most confident woman I had ever met . She wore her great size like a badge .

Sandor once said she is a skilled swordsmaine and I tend to agree, remembering past campaigns we both were on to gain Westeros and the North .

A smile splits her face as soon as Suozahn graces the hall, full of laughter .

It is good the four of us come together again. I think to myself and feel sorry for our respective mates, except for Suozahn as she has none as of yet. We move to the room now made into our solar with a broad, walled expanse of close cropped grass and hardy shrub outside it . A hot spring sits in the right side and Sandor had it covered with a small sloped roof so as to enjoy private moments away from prying eyes from above . A stone path goes to the center where patterned brick works opens to a seating area with a large clay oven in the center to put off heat . Soft cushions grace the wood frame couches. Furs are spread out on their back for use . I see hot cacao waiting for me and mulled wine and hard cider for everyone else and Sandor's ever present mug of water .

I hear the voice of Tyrion greet us with his Southern Queen beside him. " So this is where you all are, we were beginning to think you had abandoned us ", he says with mock ire .

The men cluster in their own group as we women have our own chat of catching up and gossip session . My big belly garners most of the attention for a time while everyone rubs it and comments on how fast it poked from my middle to it's present size . " I think there is more than one in there ", remarks Suozahn with a smile, " Another set of twins for you perhaps " I heed her words, since I have known her for many years, since the time we have first met she has told me the sex of my babies . When she saw me when I was pregnant with Marrydae and Maecha her first words were, " Oh my they are healthy and clasping hands even in the womb . "

I jokingly ask Brienne when she will have another and she cringes and says, " Not I ! " Then all eyes turn to Suozahn . She laughs and says, " I first need a husband so you hens stop cackling and conspiring to get me with child ! " From Dany, " I am trying to talk Tyrion into having another but he is resistant thus far, he fears I will have a child afflicted as he ", she says sadly . " You haven't thus far ", says Brienne . " True, but how often do we tempt the fates before they grant us our fear ", says Dany .

More talking form the women and from our mates loud guffaws and back slapping . I am tired and bid good night to my friends and go to my Lord husband to tell him I must needs go to bed. He pulls me to him and plants a kiss atop my head . We give of good evenings and everyone leaves us to ourselves . I want much to sit the hot springs and Sandor must be reading my mind as he leads me there and quickly has me unclothed to stand naked before him, my nipples drawn up hard and tight in the night air . My husband steps out of his breeches, his cock awakened .

He helps me into the hot springs and kneels as I lower myself in then I turn to take him in my mouth . I love doing this, I know it pleases him and I must admit I enjoy having the power to give him this level of pleasure . I start out slowly, taking my time to explore his girth and length, with tongue and fingernails . I grasp his stones and run my fingernails, gently and slowly admiring their weight and texture. I quicken my pace his throws his head back and his breathing increases . He hands are in knotted in my hair, his belly tight, his release near. I suck harder and feel the hot jet of his seed release into my waiting mouth .

My husband, sated eases his bulk into the hot spring and pulls me to him to sit his lap. His face buried in my hair to nuzzlse my neck . I think of all our years together and how this man has grown into the loving husband, father and a ruler in his own right . All he needed was small measures of kindness and love for him to shine . I hear the beating of his mighty and hidden heart . Hidden that is from all but me and his children . The heat from the springs eases my sore back and thighs from my ride today atop Summer . I begin to feel drowsy when my sweet Sandor lifts me up and steps out of the spring to carry me to our bed . I ask him to make a stop at the privy as I have to make water, yet again . He says he will be abed waiting for me .

I chew a mint sprig and ease into bed next to my husband, He rolls to face me cupping his hand around my breast, thumbing my nipple, he replaces his thumb with his mouth, sucking lightly at my pink tip . I grind into him wanting him to touch and taste more of me . He then straddles me, kneading both breasts with his hands . He lowers himself and sucks, licks, pinches and flicks my hardened tips. He rolls them between thumb and forefinger, a tug, a pinch, my back arches with need for his heat . He lowers himself leaving a trail of kisses in his wake . He glides his tongue over my belly, my mound, he bites my hip bones, my inner thighs, I raise my sex to him, I am wet, I am ready, I am for him . He buries his tongue in me, as far as he can, he withdraws, to flick light touches on my core with his tongue, I roll my hips wanting, needing his touch . He places two fingers in me, makes circular motions in my depths all while licking and sucking my hard little bead of womanhood, my breath becomes ragged I feel my come approaching, He puts a hand under my rump, lifts me to his maleness, and enters me with a single thrust, he sets a rhythm, stroking my small but engorged button with his thumb, I knead my breasts and flick their hard points, he grasps my hips, my rump resting on his powerful thighs and gives all he dares, His eyes are wide open and looking into my mine and he gives me my come, hard, wet earnest . I feel it from my insides spreading like wildfire over my parts, my insides flutter to lap and suck at his shaft milking his seed out of him, his belly tightens, his back arches, he twitches but never do our eyes break their lock on each other. I see, feel, hear his come, I smile at him he gives a wink, then lays down beside me, the last sound I hear before sleep wraps me in a warm embrace is, " I love you, Little Bird " ...


	22. Chapter 22 Across the Sea

** Continuity issue addressed**

I am awakened by my husband giving me a gentle shake. " It is time for evening meal my love let us rise and join our cohorts. ", he says with a wink and a crooked grin. I stretch and scoot to the edge of the bed where Sandor helps me rise.

" Let me guess, you must make water again ", he says with a chuckle and I respond with a poke to his ribs which illicit's a grunt and and half smile . Few know the fearsome Sandor Clegane is ticklish about his ribs and feet. He pulls me into hug and tips my face to his to give me a sweet kiss upon the tip of my nose. He waits close by to help me get up from the marble privy and watches as I wash my face and hands. Without prompting he brushes out sleep tangles in my hair with gentle strokes, using a silver clad brush.

" Do you trust Lord Tyrion, husband ? "

" I would speak with him and know his mind . "

" Why ? "

" Every person has their, " tells ", no matter who they are. "

" Tells ? "

" If they lie they cannot make eye contact, if they lie they sometimes fidget, if they lie they scratch their nose.  
, things like that . "

" You can learn much by watching Little Bird . "

We follow the young girl who waited patiently outside our rooms to the original table to find Lord Tyrion already there along with the female dwarf of earlier. Ser Barristion's head bent in conversation to Daenarys.

Sandor and I take to our seats and plates our brought before us. There is a browned meat in a thin gravy, the only bread in evidence a thin disc like thing, as it is not a fruit or vegetable nor meat so it must be bread. The meat is unknown to me but delicious none the less. Sandor's sit's, his eyes ranging over the assemblage of persons.

Syrio sit's to my right as himself and his eyes dance from Daenerys to Tyrion to Sandor to Ser Barriston back to Sandor. I lean over to his ear and say, " You watch much dance master, why do you stare with intent at my Lord husband though ? ' " His intentions must be known by now to you. "

" Indeed sweet Sansa, they are known . " " I am judging the reactions of others and whether or not I will be able to stop you Lord husband from killing Lord Tyrion . " " Kill ?! " " Why would Sandor do such a thing ? "

He says nothing only points his chin in Tyrion's direction.

Tyrion has consumed what to my eye is an extraordinary amount of wine since we sat the table. His mismatched eyes follow no one but Sandor's. His every movement seeming to be cataloged by the half man.

Tyrion's lips purse and Syrio tenses, his black eyes intent and flying between him and my husband.

" So Clegane, how is it, it came to be that not only did you win the Lady fair but her own brother and King married you himself AND knighted you as well ? " " Who's whelp really lies nestled in her womb, hmmmm ? "

With a roar Sandor kicks the chair out from behind him and leaps to the table top sword drawn and in a stride and a half he reaches down to snatch the half man up by his collar to shake him savagely, his arms and legs thrashing as if a marionette at the whim of a demented puppeteer. Syrio tries to talk reason his curls bouncing as he speaks. The female dwarf was stabbing Sandor's lower leg with a fork to no effect as the leather was thick and she lacked the height to reach beyond his knees. Realizing this, she too mounts the table to leap and start biting his thigh, which did get his attention with a snarl he shakes her off to send her cartwheeling through the air to land with a yelp. Ser Barriston stands with sword half drawn only to be stilled by the hand of the violet eyed Queen. The armed men in the funny hats stand by passively and move not a muscle, their multi-hued eyes alert but unflinching.

" Who do you think you speak to Imp ?! "

Tyrion says through gritted teeth, " I wanted only to ascertain whether or not you loved her true or this is all a facade to deceive . "

The next words are mine, though I remember not moving so fast to join the melee . " Husband, they were only words and in order to be an effective weapon we must be as one, not a rabble of discontent . " My hand is on my husbands thigh, Tyrion hanging limp from his massive lobster mailed fist.

Sandor sets him down none to gently and steps off the table and we regain our seats, Sandor's eyes never leaving Tyrion's form as we walk back to our side of the table. We hear soft sobs as the female dwarf comes back to us cradling her right arm. Even with her stunted and misshapen limbs it is obvious even to me her arm is broken. I rise to go to her, her eyes wary, follow me. I motion for her to show me and even that small movement elicits a sharp intake of breath.

" It will need to be set ", I state, my brows knitting with concern . " That much is obvious, if not for the brute you call husband and his doggish behavior it wouldn't be necessary, " says Tyrion a smirk playing about his lips. He wasn't prepared for the slap to his face and as my hand reached out to strike him it seemed as though it were attached to some one else and I was watching form another's eyes.

" It is your vile mouth and venomous comments that you did deserve this, Tyrion Lannister, if ever you speak to me, of my husband or of our child in such a manner again I will carve a second smile below the first you drunken, sot ! " My eyes open wide as it seems another has taken over my voice as well .

" My apologies my Lady . " " I truly wanted to know your Lord husband's role in this coupe we plan . "

I hear the rattling of bottles in a box and see the ships healer come forth. She gently takes the girl's arm and says something to Syrio. Who grasps the young woman by the shoulders as the healer pulls her wrist. It is surprising to me that one so small harbors such strength, She twists out of Syrio's grasp and kicks him soundly on his shin. I didn't see Sandor stride over to us until he scoops the dwarf up, sets her on his lap and holds her upper arm in a grip like iron. The healer then again pulls her wrist and bids me to grab the two pieces of wood cast half hazardously in the kit and place one on each side of her arm. She further instructs me to wrap a winding of cloth about it snuggly, starting at her palm I do as I am bid and once the limb is stabilized I fashion a sling. Once done Sandor sets her down to be thanked by way of a kick to his shin as well. The tiny woman stalks off to her rooms.

" You must forgive Penny she lacks social skills at times . "

" Not unlike yourself it would seem ", from the tiny Queen of Quarth. " I trust all of this is out of your systems now ? " Her large violet eyes flit from Tyrion to my husband, who replies with a grunt and from Tyrion a small nod of his head.

Ser Barriston rises and addresses the lot of us. " It is known to us that Tommen, another of Cercei's and Jaime's bastard's sits now the throne. Guided no doubt by his whore of a mother and Highgarden schemes to wed their precious Margaery to him, thus securing the throne to their will. "

" All this is fine and well ", says my husband, " What has this to do with Sansa and the North ? "

" The Land is large and it appears no one person can rule it, the North being untamed and only someone of the North can rule it effectively, my idea is this. " " Follow me, fight for me, join your forces to ours let us take back the kingdom, in return we divide the Land in half with a Southern and Northern rule. "

" What of the Isles, which are plentiful ? "

" Those are to be granted to another, better suited to bring the Iron Men and their ilk to heel. " " One who sickens of war, whose loss on the Blackwater was sharp and bloody . " " One who agrees to provide us with ships to cross the narrow sea. " " One who mistrusts the Red Witch. "

" The onion knight . " says Sandor around a bite of meat.

" Actually, Lord Seaworth is he called now ", from Ser Barriston.

Sandor brushes his hands over his plate and says, " Fine, but what force do you speak of ? " " Robb's men have no doubt pledged themselves to either Stannis or Tommen by now . "

" True, and the GreatJoh Umber is now a guest of the Frey's " " However if we can gain his freedom his men and other's will join our cause . "

" And how exactly will we rescue Umber ? " Sandor says while leaning back in his chair and clasping his hands behind his head .

" With these ", says the Queen, motioning us to follow .

Down the end of yet another marbled expanse we find ourselves on a wide patio overlooking the sea. On a pedestal sits a large, shinning horn made from a yellowish metal and brightly polished. One of the men in funny hats goes up to place his lips on the mouthpiece and blows three notes .

" I must caution you not to run, else you be considered then, prey ", from the tiny silvered hair Queen .

A few minutes later a shadow slides over the lot of us and faces turn skyward mine own included to see a beast out of legend and nightmare. It is a great black dragon which glides slowly to land a top the patio . The tiny woman carries in her hand a braided hide whip of black leather . Her eyes never leave the beasts. Black as pitch he is, scales tipped by the red of blood his horns and claws as well, his eyes glow the red of living coals and slide between every person present .

" Drogon ", she says softly and rubs his great jaw with the handle of her whip. He responds by craning his neck to the sky, " Dracarys ", she says and with a bellow, a jet of hellfire releases from his mouth . Even at this distance I feel the heat it emits . My poor husband near vibrates with his urge to flee, his hand grasps mine in a tight lock almost to pain .

" Each one of you, one at a time come forward slowly, so he may know your scent . "

We each approached the beast one by one, even my Sandor. To be nosed and huffed upon by the dragon. She releases him to return to his roost in a flap of a his huge wings. The issuing wind from them near blind us all with dust and sand .

" I have two more as well . " " I have also acquired four more eggs which I will give to the four of you for your mounts . " " They may have more spears, and swords but no armor or shield can withstand the hellfire of a dragon's breath . "

" What else is going about Westeros that we should know ? " From Tyrion who lips again grace the edge of a cup full of wine .

" That Ser Jaime your brother is missing his sword hand, cleaved from him by a pack of rabid curs that belonged to your brother ", as he points with his chin at Sandor . " We know also that someone is running around Westeros, raping, pillaging and murdering without restraint as the Hound as he wears your great helm, we believe these savages to be one and the same . " " We know that as of the last raven that no one knows you are here across the sea. " " We know that Little Finger sits in the Aerie of the Vale and seduces your aunt " , as he looks to me .

" So what course of action do we now take ? " Tyrion once more brings the cup to his lips, his mismatched eyes peering over it's rim .

" It will not be on the morrow, you have mounts to hatch and train ", from Ser Barriston . With that the Queen approaches me and hands me an object wrapped in white silk . I set it on the table and open it to find...


	23. Chapter 23 There Be Dragons !

... There before me is a burnt orange egg of a dragon . Sandor's eyebrows nearly crawl his forehead's full height .

" You must keep it in constant flame in your hearth, this night, my friend . " says the tiny Queen . " The first face it sees must be that of his or her mother/father . " " It will be a tiny mewling thing, unable to fly or blow flame ." " They grow fast, though and will be large enough to ride in about six months, perhaps seven or eight months for your husband ", as she eyes his bulk .

" Thank you , your Grace ", I exclaim ! " No need to address me as your Grace in the confines of privacy, " Dany ", will be fine amid friends . " She then presents Sandor with an egg of pale yellow and Ser Barriston's egg is a dark grey . We all examine our eggs, turn them over in our hands and feel the heft of them . They are not pliable and feel much like rock, Sandor shakes his to be scolded by Dany who says, " Stop that lest you addle it's brains ! " Tyrion merely looks at his egg and pushes it away . " It is ridiculous that I should ride, your Grace . " His egg was a vivid green in color . " As you wish, it is yours if you change your mind though . "

We sit at the table each one of us enraptured by our eggs . We are broken from the spell as Penny comes once more to the table, her small face still bearing the tracks of tears on her round face . " I lean into Sandor and say, " You should apologize for hurting her, husband ." " His mug pauses midway to his mouth, " She tried to stab me and she did bite me ! " " You are three times her height and most likely four or more times her weight, there is more to being a Ser than butchery ", say I . " His broad shoulders slump and he whispers back, " Fine, but not in front of the others ! " " Yes, better to do it when no ones around, seeing how you shamed her in front of all ." He sit's stewing for a few minutes then says, " Wife, you vex me but you are right . "

Sandor rises and gains Penny's side, " My Lady, I would like to apologize for causing you injury, I reacted as a I warrior and not with regard to whom was attacking and with what . " " She peers up at Sandor and says, " Thank you Ser for your apology, I am sorry as well that I tried to stab you and for biting you . "

I beam with pride for my Sandor . He regains his next to mine and I plant a kiss on his cheek .

Dany looks on with a smile, a serving girl comes with a mug of something hot and sits it in front of me . " I thought you might like to try this, it is from the cacao trees beans. They take them and dry them out then grind them into a course grade, it is then boiled in water, add sweet and a small amount of cream and you have a wonderful drink . " I sip it cautiously and...Love it ! I pass it to Sandor and he sips it as well . He takes another sip and pronounces it good as well .

" All of you will be given raw meat to take with you to your rooms, make sure your face is the first your mount sees . " " The raw meat is to feed them, small spits will be given you, so you may char the meats outsides only . " " They cannot yet blow flame so you need not worry about potential burns ", she said while looking at Sandor .

We enter our room and close the door, Sandor looks to me and says, " Why did you make me apologize in front of everyone ? " I look to him and say, " Because it was the right thing to do, do you forget you are now a Knight ?! " " What has that to do with anything ?! "  
" Because now you not only represent yourself and your actions, you represent me as well and some day when we retake Winterfell you will represent the North ! " " Do you forget my husband of your ire over false knights ? " " Let you be the example of how a Knight of honor and truth comports himself, show them all you are more than a killer of men and answer to no beck and call but that of truth and justice and true honor ! "

" His mouth was opened to retort for a moment then he snaps it shut ." His bald head was bowed and his shoulders seemed to shrink in on themselves . He raises his big brown eyes to my blue and said, " Wife, I am sorry if I embarrassed you . " " You did not embarrass me but some day we will be leaders and responsible for the lives of many, they will look to us for examples on how to behave .

His broad shoulders are still bent and I go to him and lift his chin, " I love you, big man . " His face brightens and he pulls me to his lap and gives me a long, slow kiss . He rubs my belly and I say, " Husband I have to... " , he finishes my sentence with, " Make water . " I waddle to the privy and see something new . On either side of the privy and wash pot are rails made of wood . I sit the privy, do my business and place my hands on these new rails, which are of a height and am able to get up by myself . Once standing I call for Sandor and he walks over shakes it a bit . The rails are weighed down by marble blocks one either side . " They seem sturdy ", to test his theory he sits on the privy and places his hands on the rails and uses them to support his full weight . " I like this ", Sandor says with a crooked grin .

They have no hearths here, at least not ones I am accustomed to . I ask Sandor how we will hatch our eggs and what are we going to do to keep warm once the winter comes . He pulls me to him and says, " Little Bird, this IS winter here, they do not have hearths because it is unnecessary in this climate . " " Besides I will always keep you warm ", he says to me as he waggles his eyebrows with a lascivious grin . " I walk to him and he wraps his arms about my waist to pull me to him and plants a kiss upon my big belly . He talks to our child and the baby kicks a greeting the his father . He stands and takes me by the hand and leads me to a funny clay pot ?

" This is their idea of a hearth my wife, " " How do you know ? " " I would say because it is full of wood and kindling and there is a message written on this paper ." His eyes are merry and I give him a poke in the ribs and he flinches...I love that he is ticklish . I give him another poke and I get a small giggle, poke, poke, pokity, poke, poke, he stumbles and I'm on him in a flash bouncing on his belly and tickling him . " Wife ..haha..Wife pleeeaassse..poke haha..poke, poke, tickle...He is laughing hard, it is good to see him in this state..Poke, tickle,tickle,poke poke...He now laughs so hard, tears are pouring down his cheeks.. I stop, to lock him in place with a sloooow, deep kiss. When our lips part he brushes stray hairs form my face .

Sandor is dragging his feet about starting the fire . I go to him and ask if he needs help . " No ", he says rather sullenly . " The dragon will not hurt you, my husband ." " I didn't say I was afraid, I do not understand the necessity of BOTH of us having a dragon is all ."  
" Because if we are to attack in force all of us must be Riders, especially if one of us...Falls ."

" I do not expect you to be strong all the time my husband, I know you fear, with good reason, any open flame ." His eyes search mine for a hint of rejection (?), laughter (?) and I am hoping he sees only love . I stroke the cheek of his scarred side and he flinches, I stroke it yet again and tell him, " I stopped seeing your scars months ago, they are part of you but they do not define you, my husband ." " I know also your hidden heart ." His big brown eyes look into mine and he pulls me to him in a near crushing embrace . " I love you my wife, until I draw my last breath will I love, honor and protect you and our children and if I can still ward you and ours from beyond when my life here is done I shall do it until time itself fails . " My eyes tear at his poetic words as I remember his first attempt scratched out on the road and I squeeze him tightly back, I want to be one flesh with him and I know beyond any doubt I will love him just as hard, fight to protect him, our children our way of life against any and all threats .

He sits up and wraps his arms around me to kiss my neck and shoulder . " Let us bring pillows from the room and sleep out here tonight while we watch our eggs hatch ", I say excited . " When we were small at Winterfell we siblings would camp out in each other's rooms, upon occasion our mother and father would join us ." He winks at me and says, " If that will make you happy, then the three of us will sleep out here tonight and watch our eggs hatch . "

As we gather pillows and create a makeshift bed I watch my husband, he connects three medium sized pillows atop a sheet and wraps them in it to keep them together . He repeats the process with four large pillows which must surely be for himself . He lays Bane on one side of our bedding . I rise with some effort having to do so from my hands and knees, I return to our bedchamber to gather water and fruit juice and a small snack of fruit and pickled parts for us ( me ) , Sandor eyeing me a smile dancing in his eyes . He unwraps our eggs and places them in our clay hearth and with a shaking hand lights the kindling . As soon as it burns steadily with pops and hisses he backs quickly away . It occurs to me never once did we have a fire on the road . I thought it was because he wanted no sign of our presence in the sky . I realize with a heavy heart he views fire as a living thing, bent upon devouring him .

I think of the things I feared of before the past seven months, that I wouldn't be loved by a knight, spiders, riding fast upon a horse . I think of what frightens me now . That harm come to our child or my husband . That I will not be able to strike when necessary . I look at my life now, I am loved by a knight, I have ridden upon a horse in a full gallop, by myself even, I think how proud my father and brothers would be, I have even fought physically to defend what I took as a slattern's attempt to claim my husband, I can fight passably well with dagger and short sword and I think Arry would be proud . I think now of loss . I have grown up, tis true but at what cost ? When we regain Winterfell and we WILL regain it my victory will be upon the bones of my kin . A single tear slides from my blue eyes to forge a trail down my face, hover at my chin, then land silently on my big belly .

I break from my silent revelry to feel him sit behind me, his long legs stretched out on either side of me and he bids me lean back on him . I nestle into his chest to await the hatching of our new mounts . An hour passes and I I crawl over to put more wood in our hearth, Sandor chastises me and tells me he will do it it doesn't want me burned . I shake my head no and stick a few more pieces of wood in the clay chimney'd device and watch as the flames dance higher casting shadows in their flickering light . A hear a pop thinking it was an egg only to see an ember the size of my first fingers nail spit out at me to land on skin where thumb meets hand . It burns and it hurts, I inhale sharply not wanting to alert my love . Too late, he comes to me and examines my small burn .

" Stay here ", off he ambles to come back with a leaf of one of the many plants that adorn our patio . It has broad leaves, thick and hard, with small spike like things at it edges, He, " skins ", the leaf to it's insides, which is almost jelly like and clear, it is slimy to the touch and he places it on the burn and almost instantly the pain abates . " They call it, " Ahlow ", here it helps with the pain and will reduce the scarring, the women use it frequently I am told . " " There is another version of this plant only it is a blue in color, I have heard they make a strong liquor out of it . "

I think of the amount of pain this small burn caused and think to myself, how did he endure ? The hours tick slowly by and we both drowse . At some point before dawn I hear a loud pop, unlike the sound of a burning brand . A shadow plays about the flames and out comes a flopping baby dragon, I nudge Sandor, All tail and wings, it is dark, the only light from the flame of our small hearth, I see my orange come at me, quicker than would seem possible, he gains my shoulder and hides in my hair, his/her small head poking out to hiss and blow smoke rings at Sandor, who is now at my side . I pick up my husbands shirt and try and untangle my dragon, his tail wraps around strands of my hair as do the claws of his tiny feet . With some effort I remove him and notice I am now short a small hank of hair that now trails from his tail and feet and wrap my husbands shirt about him, thus swaddled his long neck ranging to and fro . I think to myself I had expected him to be deeper orange . My thoughts are broken as another loud pop issues from the hearth and I scoot quickly away on my rump .

Sandor's eyes are intent on the flame, he is not disappointed as another tiny winged reddish beast lands in a tangle of wings before him . The tiny dragon stares intently and gains his shoulder amid Sandor's winces and shudders . I look to my husband with a question in my eyes to hear him say, " He is using the hair on my belly and chest like climbing ropes ! " I cannot help it and a laugh comes from my lips to be followed by another and yet another . Sandor's eyes crinkle in vexation and says, " Hope to never have that done to your person ! " To which I retort, " What, having a dragon climb my bare chest or that I sprout hair like a field of wheat upon it ? " He pauses to utter, trying hard not to show the laughter he feels bubbling behind his teeth, " Wife, were you not with child I would put you to my knee and spank you soundly . " Which elicits another bark of laughter from my lips . he wraps his dragon in part of the sheet I slept on .

I scoot on my rump closer to them both and stick a bit of meat on a spit to char it evenly and present it to my new mount to be . He noses it and gobbles whole and pecks at my hand for more . The next three quarters of an hour we char feed and char more bits of meat . As the night gives way and lightens to a new day we make a discovery, the reason why my orange wasn't dark and why Sandor's appeared red . We each hold the others dragon . I am now the proud mistress of a pale yellow dragon and Sandor the master of a burnt orange mount . I wonder if Dany will be upset over this mixed and matched set...


	24. Chapter 24 The Day Draws Nigh

I awaken to the slap of bare feet, to see our Jon flying through the air to land on our bed. His mandolin in his hands. " for Ned and...and ", " His bride, Sansa ", I finish.

Sandor and I sit up the covers drawn up over his waist. Our sweet child Jon plucks out a melody of sweet notes unknown to our ears. When he finishes his bright eyes look to us and he says, beaming, " I made this...For Ned...For his...Bride ", only it came out as bird from his mouth. He father and I smile . Sandor has called me his Little Bird for long years now. Our eldest takes to wife a woman bearing my name.

A knock on our door jamb and young Carrys an assistant to Gundr asks for entry to retrieve Jon for his bath. He balks until Sandor gives him, " The Eye ." Known to all our children, Jon included that you have very little time to obey a directive or else. The else in question I'm somewhat curious about myself. Sandor has never raised a hand to either our children or myself so I am assuming it is the mere threat of a potential spanking, from a very large man, that kept our children in line .

" Wife, what say you about our Jon going with Ned and his Sansa ? " " It stresses me that he will be in a strange place amid the southerners. " " They do not know him as we do. " " True, but wife I think it will be good for all of them, they think parenting is easy and I think to give him ward over his brother would be an eye opening thing for both he and his Lady wife ." " Let them taste what it is like to parent a child though slow of learning has the strength to break bones with the same hands as strums his mandolin. "

I think of the time when Jon was quite small perhaps four or five. We had been to the rookery to see the dragon's and show Jon our mounts. They eyed him with small regard and went back to sleep. Jon's eyes were wide with wonder and he did not want to leave his small head craned back to see the dragons as they diminished from view. Later that night we are awakened by the howl of Direwolves in the distance.

Followed by a sharp rap to our door and the Captain of Night Guard comes in breathless to say, Jon, is unaccounted for.

My husband bolts out of bed to throw on clothing and says to me, " Get dressed and meet me downstairs. " I too throw on clothes of riding breeches and two linen shirts and hard heeled over the knee boots. Grabbing a heavy cloak I rush down the stairs to see half the Keep awake and men and women with torches forming a plan of action on where and how to search.

Sandor stands amid the throng his eyes showing a glint of fear. Sweet Jon is our special boy, gentle as a lamb and has no means but his strength to protect him. " He did not take his boots your Grace nor cloak, it appears he has left barefoot ." I sit heavily on the bench Sandor comes to my side and says, " I promise you wife, I will find him . " " I know I say but when ? "

Gendry pushes through the crowd to say he has tracked him and he has slipped out through the old part of the Keep up over a vine covered section of the wall. His tracks lead on, on the other side into towards the rookery. My heart sinks and tears spring to my eyes. Sandor pulls me to him and says, " We ride to the rookery, then ." I run to the stables and climb atop my chestnut, " No Name " as Sandor gains Stranger's back, we both lack saddles but away we go to ride once more in the night. It seemed to take forever to gain the rookery our horses shy from the scent of dragon, several Direwolves weave to and fro and even great Stranger stamps the ground. The sight that greets our eyes is amazing to us. Summer and Halcion lay side by side and our boy lies sleeping atop Summer, nestled between her wings. At our approach the dragons eyes open and follow our movements. Halcion rises to greet his master while Summer holds her position, a sleeping Jon unaware of what goes on around him.

Relief floods me as Sandor and I approach Summer , Sandor gains her back to lift our still sleeping boy off her and hugs him close to his chest. Tears flow freely down both our cheeks and we see a small smile creases Jon's lips. He is warm and though his feet are filthy and bloody, they too are warm to the touch.

At dawn of that day Sandor ordered all manner of vine or any tree that leaned towards or touched the walls removed. he also had the area of the old part cleared and flaming torches placed at intervals to light that which was dark. We also had a watcher posted to his door every night since that incident .

I come back to the present and look into the eyes of my husband and shake my head yes . " It pains me but yes . "

" Come wife I am starving, let us eat and make final preparations for tomorrow . "

We gain the great hall to see our friends and children breaking their fast on fried fish, fried pork mutton and porridge, eggs and cheese, bread and gravy and sweets. Brandae runs to her father and gets scooped up into his arms to plant a sticky kiss on his cheek. Suozahn amuses herself and the twins with slight of hand tricks, Jon sandwiched between them and Ned and his Sansa, Most of Jaime and Brienne's brood bent on chasing the rest of ours around in a game of, I name thee. All but our Carey and their eldest Gunahr. I see also our Robb's nose bent to a book raising it to point and talk to Tyrion of the content of it's pages.

I see at our places amid the table a steaming mug of cacao for me and a mugs of sweet cider and water for Sandor. As we sit and take in the goings on two serving women approach bearing my Lord husbands usual morning fare of eggs, cooked soft, porridge, bread with peppered meat gravy, several pieces of fruit, and fried strips of pork with fried mashed and my usual fare of fruit and porridge. Dany approaches with a steaming mug of her own cacao and sits next to me.

" You sleep well ? "

" Most likely better and longer than you ". I say a mischievous grin on my face.

" We try for a child ", she admits with a smile brighter than the days dawn.

" After breaking our fast we got to the court hall. It is large and the floor carved from living rock. A raised stepped area is at it's head, And six carved chairs now sit atop it. Myself and Sandor occupy the center ones mine with the visage of a snarling wolf my Lord husband's of a hounds head at rest. to my right sits the Sounthern Queen her chair back shaped as a dragon. To Sandor's left Tyrion his chair's back in the shape of a maned lion. all our chair legs end with the paws and claws of our respective house beast's. Landon and Anjelae's chairs are unadorned. Landon's seat remains empty as he works, he stands at the foot of the steps in his capacity of soldier and Captain of the Guards.

I am nervous. Though I have sat in court numerous times with mother and father this is the first time I will sit in judgement. I pray the Old God's guide me. Most of the preceding has to do with livestock thievery and contract negotiations. Next up is the rape charge.

The man before me bows and says, my name is Mynoir Wheatback and I accuse, as he points a long finger at another in chains. " That person known by name of Hanhnz Stoneworth raped my daughter Melinae and got her with child ." The chained man was brought forth and he raises his head to meet my eyes. " What say you ? " I ask. " Your Grace, I am innocent. I did no act of violence towards this woman and I have lain with no woman but my wife, I swear it." A commotion is raised and a brazen women with a mop of unruly, mousy brown hair, brown eyes and a painted face stands before me a child of blonde hair is wrapped in a a torn, stained and thin blanket at her breast, her small blonde head bare. " He done did it, he did ." " It was wet about the grass and ruint me dress because of the rain ", pointing a chubby finger at the accused.

I think in my mind that I have spoken to many people yesterday and found that the accused is a member of good standing in the community. No one had ill to say of him. He is a successful stone mason and a leader in the village in which he and his family live and shares with his neighbors when they have a need.

" It is customary and good manners to approach with , Your Grace, before running amok at the jaws ", says my Lord father.

Duly chastised , the painted woman presents a lackluster curtsy and speaks, " Your Grace's, this man did rape me, I swear it. " " Threw me down behind my father's barn and has his way with me, he did. " " In the wet because it was raining and your dress was ruined, correct ? " I say. " Yes ", she mumbles, I watch her eyes meet many but mine own. " How hard was it raining, was it a light mist or..." " No, no your Grace, raining heavily it were ! "

Another woman comes forward, gives a curtsy and says clearly, " Your Graces', my husband is innocent of these charges, on the day in question he was at the fields with the rest of us . " " Even though he is a trained as a stone mason ? " " Yes your Grace, during the harvest all go to the fields, especially at first harvest, there is much to be done so every able body is amid the wheat ." Many a head nod in agreement at that last statement. I see the faces of what have to be his children, they are in image of their father. I see also his wife's hair is a mousy brown as the painted woman's is, only hers being slightly wavy . I step down to come face to face with the man who is charged. I look at the lines of his face and his grey eyes, which look into mine own, there is no fear or shadow in them. I then step to stand at his wife, worry marks her brow, her eyes are the same shade of deep brown as mine own. I look also to the faces of his children, all who's eyes are the grey of their father not one with the shade of their mother, their hair black as coal of the father and stick straight.

I go to his accusers and the painted one cannot meet my eyes. Her fathers head is also bowed. The child in the accusers arms is a baby of perhaps ten months. Her eyes are a bright, clear blue, the color of my Lady mother's and her hair the blonde of corn silk. I notice again her bare head even though the day still has the chill of morning in the air.

I stand before the father of the accuser. " Why is it that neither you nor your daughter can meet my eyes ? " " What other witnesses have you ? " " Where were you when this happened ? " " Why is it you waited not only till the child was born but nine or ten turns of the moon after she came into the world to bring forth these charges ? "

Stammering he answers feebly that he was working the fields as well. " On a day that rains, you must be the first in all of Westeros to attempt to bring wheat from the fields in a downpour. " I am grateful that the weather is charted and a record kept at Winterfell by Maester Obyrt and his assistants . I am grateful also to know that the day in question was cloud free as were the preceding six.

My eyes scan the assemblage to fall upon a man of my height. " Come forward, Randyl Ravenskeep . " He is tall, with striking blue eyes that crinkle at their edges, no doubt from long days in the sun whilst he trains messenger ravens, his hair is the blonde of corn silk almost white from being out of doors, his facial hair a striking red .

" Have you anything to add to this ? "

" I have your Grace, I have known the accuser in a carnal fashion in the past . " He said head bowed. He straightens to say, " I had asked for her hand to wed her but her father said I am not good enough, I make not enough silver to keep a daughter of his . " The people gathered whisper and glare at the the accuser and her father .

" Good people of the North, is there any among you who will speak for the accused ? " Many hands shoot upward and I listen to several testaments, all of whom say that Hanhnz Stoneworth is a good and honest sort. I rise and say to the large cluster of those who would bear witness for him and ask, " Do any of you have something more to add or say in the negative about the accused ? " I am greeted by silence. " Very well then, I, Anjelae Clegane, Princess of Winterfell and the North, Representing Her Grace, Sansa Stark ~ Clagane, Queen of the North and her Lord husband, Sandor Clegane, Her Strong Right Arm of Justice, find Hanzhn Stoneworth innocent of the charge of rape. " To the whoops of his friends and family. " Release him from his bonds, Captain Landon . " " Place them instead on the liar, slattern and would be thief, Meliinae, bring another pair for her father . "

" Me...Why me ? " This coming from the father of the accuser. " Because you knew full well who the father of the child is, because you willfully tried to steal the good name of Hanzhn Stoneworth by accusing him falsely of a heinous crime . " " You will lose the small fingers of both hands and you will spend ninety days in a work detail of my choosing which I will announce AFTER I pass judgement and sentence of your lying daughter, I would recommend you hold your tongue... Or I will . "

" Melinae Wheatback, come forward . " " For the crime of bearing false witness, for lying repeatedly to the court, for the attempted theft a person's good name . I sentence your lying tongue be cut from your mouth, that you branded on your forehead and buttocks the mark of liar and thief and finally that your small fingers from both your hands be cleaved from you. "

" Randyl Ravenskeep, have you means and inclination to raise and care for your daughter ? "

" I do your Grace ." " Have you a wife to help you in this endeavor ? " " Yes, your Grace she is here ", he motions to a woman of short stature and long blonde hair, kept in a single braid trailing down her back. " And you are ? " " I am Shaeri, wife to Randyl, your Grace she says while curtsying . " " How long have you been wed ? " " Only two turns of the moon, your Grace ", she says with a wide smile to her husband .

" You are willing to take in this girl child, to raise her as your own ? " " I am your Grace ." The child is placed in her arms, she nuzzles her with her nose, wrapping the ends of her cloak about the babe.. To the Keeper of Proceedings I say, " Let this child... " Saedii " , screeches her birth mother. " SILENCE ! " Growls my Lord father.

" We would name her Aerikha . " " As you wish, let the record of her birth state her parentage as, Father, Randyl Ravenskeep and her Mother, Shaerii Highlands ~ Ravenskeep . " Thank you your Grace, from the new parents as well as from Hanzhn Stonesworth and his friends and kin .

" You cannot take my baby ", Melinae wails . " Oh but I can, it is obvious to me your wants and needs are first and foremost in your mind . " " Your child is swaddled in rags, bare of head while you, yourself are in fine wool with a hooded cloak about your shoulders . " " Being a parent is a privilege and honor, NEVER anyone's right . "

" Mynoir Wheatback come forward . Your sentence of ninety days, hard labor will be in the cess pits, your small fingers will NOT be removed until you have finished your hard labor . I would have a measure of work from you that the North would not receive if you are maimed .

I remount the steps to retake my seat when Aunt Daenerys leans to me and says, " Well done Anjelae, well done ."

The rest of the proceedings are a blur and end quickly. As we meet in the private dining hall of my family, both my parents come up to me and hug me. " One question, though daughter ", " How did you know the wife's birth name ? " " I read the records before I interviewed anyone yesterday, I knew the week of the assault was dry, I knew also of Randyl's dalliances with Melinae before he took Shaerii to wife. " " I read all the records of everyone involved to better know them and the situation . "

" Your mother and I have every faith in you to mete justice with a fair hand, once we are gone . " Says my father . A glint in his eye I have come to recognize as pride at one of his children's accomplishments .

" Now, we must turn our minds to last minute details ", he says with a crooked grin...


	25. Chapter 25 I Thee Wed

Everyone is in their best woolen garb, from the Clegane's on down to serving girls their bodices whitened their woolen over dresses stain free, stable boys who's high leather boots cleaned and shined, Maester Obyrt in new grey's, the metals of his chain even sparkling, Culla and all the kitchen help in their best aprons a bright white, the men and women at arms, their armor cleaned and polished their cloaks clean as well . It took me a few minutes to see everyone wore either yellow or grey, ( with exception the soldiers ), those who chose grey wear Ice Ferns of yellow, those who wear yellow wear the flowers of Dewmist . It warms me that our people honor my daughter so . Wedding are not so long here in the North, our celebration afterwards, well, that is a different story .

The dragons ward the skies above us, men and women still walk the walls, ever vigilant . Those that ward us during the festivities will be rewarded by two days off the next work cycle instead of just one .

This wedding is for show, Anjelae and Landon as per their request and the way of the North, asked instead to be married in the Godswood at dawn . Sansa urged Ned to do the same and they did . They will marry in front of all in Winterfell for the people . My Lord husband and I are confident that when our time is done here that Winterfell and the North are in good hands .

I gather my layers and start first with my tunic, then a quilt padded Ser coat, then my mail, then plate armor . All over leather riding breeches and thigh high, hard soled boots . I strap on my side sword, my dagger and a few more blades secreted amid my person . I will not be caught unaware . My Lady wife attaches my Stark grey cloak with a yellow liner, to my shoulders . Lastly, my Great Sword, Bane across my back .

I help Sandor attach his cloak and watch as he straps Bane about his back . He is still virile and handsome after many wedded years in my eyes . His back straight, eyes clear . I watch as he opens the box to Anjelae's wedding gift .

As if on cue she knocks and peeps in , Sandor says, " Come daughter, your mother and I have something for you ." In she steps and she is radiant . Her hair in a single herringbone braid down her back . She chooses a vivid yellow dress with sweeping sleeves with inserts that are black in honor of her Lord father . He bids her turn around and he places the jewels about her neck and fumbles with the clasp in his large hands for a few moments then secures it around her . She peers into the looking glass at her reflection and her eyes light up .

" Father, mother, thank you, they are beautiful ! " " No more than the wearer ", Sandor says . I go to my wardrobe and pull her wedding cloak from it's confines . " This is for you to wear but once, daughter ." Sandor and I place it on her shoulders jointly . " He puts his hands on her shoulders and asks, " Are you ready child ? "

" Do you have the ring ? "

" Yes . " I say, as I hold the ring for her husband in my gloved hand .

" Father ? " Yes daughter, I have yours from him . " Can I see it ? " No, you can wait a bit longer I think ", he says with a wink .

Sandor put his gloves and gauntlets on and picks up Ice . We start our descent to the wedding site . It is filled to capacity, not a bare spot to be seen large enough to contain a standing person . The wonderful smells in the air courtesy of Cull and her helpers make ones mouth water . We see both intendeds in their finery . Landon in his Captain's armor, from sabaton to cuisse to his gorget it all gleams, his great helm rests in the crook of his arm . He wears a Stark grey cloak trimmed in black fur, the lining is also blacked .

Our son Ned stands proud in his armor as well, his cloak the yellow and grey of the North's crest . We parents greet each other quietly, our respective daughters, the young women between her parents . I see many familiar faces, from near and far, some I haven't seen since we repelled the others and their spawn .

My namesake wears a dress of Lannister red with gold inserts and a cloak of black . Her hair also in a single braid down her back . her parents have gifted her with a garnet necklace . Parents look to their daughters then to each other and we proceed to the waiting intendeds  
We stand atop the raised area and each presents the woman to the man . Sandor places ice between the two couples, four hands hold the hilt and four hands hold the cross guard, one for each parent and child .

" .Who from Winterfell and the North give this woman to wife ? " As one, every voice of Winterfell and the North say, We do . " " Who speaks for the groom to give say ? " And again every voice of the people say as one, " We do ." Sandor says, " Do you Captain Landon Winterfell, man at arms, man of the North take unto thee, Anjelae Clegane, daughter of their Graces' Sansa Stark~Clegane and Lord Sandor Clegane, to wife ? " " To honor and keep, love and protect, to fore sake the beds and flesh of all others save your Lady wife, till death takes thee ? " I do so swear . " He continues to Anjelae, " Do you Anjelae Stark~Clegane, Princess of Winterfell and the North take this man, Landon Winterfell, take unto thee, to love and cherish, to bear him children, to keep his his household, comfort and obey him as your Lord and husband, till death takes thee ? " " I do so swear . "

Lord Tyrion's says, " Eddard Stark~Clegane, Prince of Winterfell and the North, take to you, Sansa Targaryen~Lannister to wife, to honor, love, cherish, respect and fore sake all others, till death takes thee ? " " I do so swear . " " Do you, Sansa Targaryen~Lannister, Princess of Queen's Landing and the South, take to you, Eddard Stark~Clegane as you Lord and husband, to love, cherish, bear him children and keep his household and comfort him till death takes thee ? " " I do so swear ."

We face the gathering people and Sandor says, May I present, my daughter, now Anjelae Clegane~Winterfell and Lord Tyrion says, May I present my daughter, Sansa Lannister~Clegane . To cheers and thrown oats, bread cubes and flowers . We adjourn to the great hall to feast and celebrate .

The respective wedding cloaks are taken to be stowed for another time as the parents relinquish the seats at the head of the main table to their children on this night . Sweet child Jon starts the festivities playing his song for his brother and new sister . Sandor informed Landon and Anjelae that their seat would be Cleganes Keep, once a small tower with bad memories now a great keep, the original laid to waste by my Lord husband and his mount . They will take Winterfell upon both our deaths and the Clegane seat will go to another of our children .

Tyrion and Dany decided against the tower of the hand and instead give Casterly Rock as their new seat . Their baggage wagons left some days ago as did the wagons for Clegane's Keep . On an up note when my husband walked the interior of his former home he went into Gregor's room to piss upon the floor and saw a shimmer from the bottom of a tapestry and upon looking behind he saw a gold coin half showing, using his dagger and an old memory he gained a room stuffed to the brim with his brother's hoard . That gold went to rebuild the Land and our people .

Food is brought out by the tray fulls, all manner of fish and fowl, beef, mutton, greens, mashed, and sweets . Our youngest child has sampled much judging from her face, hands and yes, even her hair . Music and dancing for the young and old and I even got Sandor out to dance, he is surprisingly agile despite his great size . The hours tick by and us four parents decide to make for the solar .

" Four down and one to go for us ." He says with a certain amount of glee . He had a runner to collect the new weds and they come forth . Dany motions for them to come closer and hands an egg first to Anjelae, then to Landon and finally to Ned . She gives them the same instructions Sandor, Tyrion and myself heard all those years ago . The new Dragon Lord's and Lady are beside themselves with excitement and repeat their thanks . They excuse themselves to return to their guests .

I suggest hot drinks for the night is chill and say I to our friends, " Do you remember when our dragon's first hatched... "


	26. Chapter 26 Sweet Anjelae

** We must always be vigilant, The previous text leads you down a different path and one reader said, " Hey wait a minute ! " This is the answer to her question . You didn't think I'd let that stand now did you ?! This chapter is dedicated to, crushnotsosecret ;) Again this story IS NOT canon .

" Husband I tell you it sit's not well with me ! " " If I am to take up my mother's seat why would they cast me to waste away in the Clegane Lands ?! " " You are a Clegane as well as Stark ", says Landon . " How will our people know us if we are so far away ?! " " When our time comes to sit Winterfell we will be nothing but a distant memory to them ! "

" Well perhaps you should bring it to the Queen's attention as well as your Lord father's ", says Landon under his breath .

" I intend to . "

And with the clack of my booted feet was I off to seek out my parents .

I found them in their solar .

" Your Graces' "

Sandor's eyes slide my way and then back to our Anjelae . My eyes are still when I say, " Your Graces' is rather a formal greeting to your parents, is it not ? " " This is a matter of State ", from Anjelae in clipped speech . A quick wrap on the door and Landon bids entry, Sandor acknowledges with a wave of his hand .

" Father, with respect I do not wish to lie wasting amid the fields of wheat that is your lands ! " " I should be in the North so when mother and you..." " Are dead ." Sandor finishes . " Yes that... " ( Almost... , come child speak your mind show me your steel, I think silently . ) " I should not be sent South ! " ( Aaahhh, there's my girl's steel ) " When it comes for Landon and I to sit Winterfell and rule it's people and the North, should it not be as people the North knows, not some memory that time has shrouded by long absent years ?! " ( And it is done . )

" Your father had the idea to tell you of your trip South, be not angry at him as I agreed . " " Why ? " " To see if you had steel girl ", from her father . " It is all fine and well to be born unto nobility, it is another to use that nobility in a just way ." " Only someone of the North can truly rule it . " " Part of being an effective ruler is taking a stand against something you think is not right ", says I .

" So this was a ruse ? "

" No, had you not said anything we would have allowed you to sit your father's seat for a few months, then brought you back north . "

" But our household goods..." "Are on it's way to your true seat of Frosthaven and have been for two weeks, they should gain the keep in one or two days time ." " And our baggage trains that I sent out ? " " Were given instructions to head for Frosthaven . " " Lest you fret yourself more we have six dragons here, they could have carried two households worth of goods if there was a need and you did not stake a stand against your father and my words . "

" I have another question, mother , is Jaime not angry for being passed over for the Casterly Rock seat ? " " If he is, he's a fool ", barks Sandor . " How so father ? " " What people would follow the rule of a man who knowingly allowed a fraud to be perpetrated by allowing not one but two of his bastard's to sit the throne ?! " " He is not fit to rule and though he has gained the use of his left hand in swordplay it is not as adept as his missing right ." " He stays in Queen's Landing because he has no where else to go ." " The same reason Brienne uses the name Lannister as that is all she now has . " " Her kin has disowned her for taking up with the Kingslayer ."

" It is the same reason that Jaime and Brienne have no winged mounts, Daenery's trusts not Jaime ."

I rush into the waiting arms of my parents and wonder when or if I will feel the light touch of my mother and the strong arms of my father again . My father plants a soft kiss on my head, mother my cheek and we say our goodbyes .

Lord Tyrion and the Southern Queen await us in the stables .

" So, which way do you go ? " Northeast to Frosthaven, your Graces' " " Good, then you will no doubt make an excellent Queen and Prince consort when the time comes . " I hug Aunt Dany and Uncle Tyrion fiercely and we thank them again for our mounts . Now it is time we take our leave to our new seat .

I look behind me one last time at the parapets and walls that birthed, housed and taught me what it is to be of the North . We leave taking a garrison of three hundred men and women at arms and their families, to start anew in Frosthaven . A fort manned by mostly wildings and their kin . It sits a ridge and abuts Lord Shagga's new lands . I wonder to myself if he really did in fact threaten to cut off Uncle Tyrion's manhood and feed it to a goat...


	27. Chapter 27 The Thing About Dragons

Dany herself knocks on our door the following morning . " Hello friends how goes the hatching ? " We introduced Dany's scent after our new hatching's first meal . Careful to wash all odor of raw meat off our hands . Sandor walks to the door to answer it and let Dany in . Halcion perched on his shoulder, neck craning to see our guest . She lifts her hand to him, his nostrils open and close for a few moments then he loses interest to perch back atop Sandor's shoulder . She greets me and we embrace as she looks at my yellow . " A female, that is good ! " " Sandor's is a male, Ser Barriston's also male, Lord Tyrion's is unknown to me . " We will introduce them to Drogon in a few months ."

" They are a wonder to behold, Dany ! " " I am glad you like your belated wedding gifts ", she says with a smile . " I'm glad also you ended up with a female, she suits you and your femininity, Sansa ."

" At what point do they blow flame ", from my husband . " Drogon was about twelve or thirteen weeks, his siblings soon followed . " "This time you spend with them before they master the flame is important, you must love them but with a firm hand . " " They will take faltering hop flights around the same time, they master first hovering ."

At that point I introduce her to my Summer, who peers from my coppery locks . She allows Dany to scratch her beneath her jaw then scurries back to peer once more from my hair .

" I must thank you for the railing to help me rise from the privy ", I say with a light blush . " It is nothing, I wish for you to be comfortable while here in Quarth ."

" We meet at the table for discussion at high sun ", she says as she takes her leave of us .

Sandor and I place our wards in their respective roosts, much to their dismay .

Sandor sweeps me into an embrace for a long, slow and deep kiss . My belly to his groin and the baby shifts position and I have...To make water, NOW ! I waddle with some speed to the privy .

As the sun creeps towards high sun we make our way to the table . Lord Tyrion is already there . He has the egg before him and stares at it with some intent .

" Why did you not take the egg to hatch ? ", I ask . " Because it is ridiculous that a dwarf should ride ! " " No more than a dog riding who fears flame ", says Sandor . " But I will have this mount and I will master it as a Rider ", he continues . I am served a heaping plate of pickled parts as Tyrion scrunches up his nose and says, " My Lady do you kno... ", to be cut off from an all but lethal look from my husband . " I see ", says Tyrion . " Perhaps you are correct Clegane , I must needs to design a saddle to fit the needs of a stunted rider and a winged mount ."

" So Tyrion, what think you of the Silver Queen ? " " In what way ? " " Why in any way ." My query goes unanswered as Dany and Ser Barriston join us with Strong Balerus close behind . I see Syrio's bouncing curls from another hall come as well .

" It is good you all are here, let us discuss the how and why of it ." " We know for a certain the GreatJon Umber is being held at the Twins, we know also that spies for Little Finger and Vary's are sniffing around the Free Cities in search of Sansa and Sandor . " " We know that Cercei has reneged on debts to not only the Iron Bank of Braavos but also debts to the Sept, angering both ." " Now, how can we use this to our advantage ? "

" I am still a Lannister, though now my brother is technically Lord of Casterly Rock given the well known fact at least to us for a certainty that Cercei's children are fathered not by Robert but bastard's of my brother bedding my sister, he is no fit Lord to sit Casterly Rock ." " I can perhaps attempt to secure a loan for arming and paying some sell swords . "

" We have also Lord Seaworth, his ships and knowledge ."

I wish to pose a question and interrupt the current flow of the conversation to direct it to Syrio . " You spoke of an ancient threat , Syrio, what is the nature of this threat ? "

" From time immemorial the Others come creeping, it has been so long since they threatened the people you have all but forgotten how to combat them . " " Some Crow's encountered the glow eyed daemons on the, Fist of the First Men . " " Only Mountain Bane can kill them, what you call, " Dragon glass ", spit forth from smoking and spewing mountains, that and fire ." Dany's eyebrow's raise slightly . " The other's bring forth white walkers, their daemon spawn of sorts, reanimated dead flesh that no arrow or steel can vanquish, if a limb is cleaved from the body it too searches for prey, they must be burned to nothing to insure they are truly dead ."

" My father took the head of a black brother, deserter, he too raved about white walkers ", says I . " Did my father kill an innocent man ? " Innocent of what ? " Syrio says . " No, he was not a liar, but a coward and deserter for which he was judged guilty and therefore it was just that Lord Stark ended his life ", from my husband . He squeezes my hand beneath the table .

" So we must devise a plan of action not just to take the Land but also combat this unholy threat ? " I look to Dany who says, " White walkers are not immune to fire, let the dragon's breath sweep them from Westeros ."

" Or perhaps let the turncoats and traitors deal with them so we have less of an enemy to face with spear and sword ..."

" WHAT ?! , And what of the people and other innocents ?! " " We cannot allow this threat to stand unopposed, if the dead shall rise if we do nothing more dead than living wil hold sway over Westeros ! " Say I with a furious edge .

It is Ser Barriston's words that holds the next conversation . " We need to grow and train our mounts . " " It is all well that we dream of retaking a Land with dragon fire but it is another thing entirely to put it into action . " " We need to acquire hoofed mounts for an army, once we get an army we need to feed and clothe and PAY them ."

" If we take Westeros and I am gaining confidence we will, I can secure the loan from the Iron Bank . " " How, Is that ? " Ask the rest of us . " When the Silver Queen takes the Iron Throne she will hopefully forgive my crime of patricide and then I will take the Casterly Rock seat . " " Thus having the means to repay the loan ." " Well what makes you think that they will believe in our endeavor ? " " Simple, instead of having a caravan of wagons and horses we will arrive a top our dragon's, as in plural, meaning more than..." " Enough, we are aware of plural versus singular, Lannister ", from Sandor . Well at least he's referring to him by his name rather than " Imp ", I think .

It is time for our charade of showing Sandor in public . Once every other day or so, he is sent forth on errands with other bald and branded men . There was close call some days ago as both he and Syrio noticed a furtive man shadowing them . They ducked into a darkened alley and snatched him as he passed them unseen . I don't know if I've mentioned it but my husband can be quite...Frightening and persuasive if he has a mind to . Syrio questioned him carefully and nodded to Sandor, who promptly broke his neck . He was then stuffed in an empty barrel and they continued their journey to unadorned doorway...

Syrio wraps three times in quick succession to the sound of another knocking twice, silence, then twice more . After another few moments of silence and a bolt is slid back and the door opens . My senses are heightened going into this murky area, I want badly to slide Bane from it's sheath and feel the heft in my hands .

A dark interior and a cabinet is slid aside, to reveal rough hew steps in stone spiraling down out of sight . Our guide is wearing a smock one side black, the other white and barefoot . Our hard soled boots the only sound and every step is amplified many times . We reach the bottom and walk along a dank tunnel smelling of decay and long standing water . We appear to go for a mile maybe a little more when we come at last to an iron bound door . Our guide knocks two times a quick silence by two more, to which the guide again hits the door with three more quick raps .

A creak of hinges needing oil and we are met by yet another dimly lit space . A fountain gurgles quietly in the center, all kinds of people are there lying or sitting in all manner of repose . Sleeping areas are cut into the very walls and more than a few are occupied . If I wasn't shorn of my hair it would be standing on end in this place, it smells of all manner of death and I like it not .

Syrio motions me to a bent man of ancient years , his blind eyes slide to the sound of my foot steps . " I have not a great deal of time, please tell Sansa I am well and safe and have found a calling to which I am suited ", says the old one . I begin to say I know not of whom you speak when the old man slides his hand down his face and ...


	28. Chapter 28 An Unexpected Twist

...The wizened man in front of me melts away and before me stands Arya Stark, her large grey eyes unmistakable, as her mop of dark hair . She's grown some and her thin arms have now taken on a bit of muscle . " What is this place ? " " A place of solace for some, knowledge for others ", says Arya . " Your sister will want to see you, she misses you, do you know of..." My brother and mother ? " " Yes ." " You must give her a message that I am well . " " Take this as proof of who I really am ." " I must go as I have other tasks which I must attend to ." As I stand there staring the visage and form of the old man reappears and totters off into the darkness .

I look to Syrio with a question in my eye . " Would you have believed me had I told you ? " " I think not which is why it was necessary for you to see with your own eyes and receive that which you now posses ." I open my hand to find a piece of stitchery and a small wax sealed note . I look at the stitches and see that the stitches are crooked and sloppy and muse to myself it looks as sloppy as mine from long months ago .

We walk another way around the fountain and people amid it into a long hallway at the end is a huge door . Syrio sets a brisk pace and we gain the door and walk out into the blinding glare of the now setting sun . I have much to think on and am grateful for my companions silence .

We enter the palace of the Silver Queen to find her and Tyrion's head bent in conversation . They notice no one and something the half man says causes the Queen to laugh heartily . As if she knows I am thinking of her, my Lady wife appears, her waddle unmistakable to my eye . She greets me with a smile and hug, I am keeping my face as still as stone to figure out how and when I speak to my sweet Sans .

She stiffens slightly and looks into my eyes . " What is it my husband ? " " We should go to the others as this news maybe all should hear . " Tyrion and Dany both nod their greeting and we all take our seats at the table . Ser Barriston is the last to join us . I look to my wife and hand her the bit of cloth and she carefully unfolds it . Tears spring to her eyes and she breaks the seal to the message to read it carefully . More tears trace her cheeks to fall off her chin . As if remembering people are present she wipes her tears and sits a little straighter . She hands the message to me and I read it .

" Sister, much has happened, is happening and will happen . Bran and Rickon travel with the frogs and a wilding, Hodor is also with them , they go beyond the wall, fear not it is as it should be . You did well to take Sandor as your Lord and husband, you will need his strength, canniness, battle lore and yes, his savagery and rage too for the upcoming trials you will face . You do this not for vengeance alone but for justice as well, if you fail the world of men will be no more and the cold and night that never ends will reign for ages untold . I love you and it took much to help me to see just how much . The Silver Queen is good and just but needs a woman friend as do you, cleave unto her, she will be the sister I can no longer be, Arry . "

The note is passed and all read it . The words make the Queen's eyes mist as she raises hers reddened eyes to mine, a silent understanding passes between us .

" So we now know the whereabouts if not the exact location of the remaining Starks " comments Ser Barriston . " None will follow even if they know where they are ", he adds . " How did they pass the Wall ? " " Surely our brother Jon Snow would not have granted them passage ? " " No, it was with help from another, unwitting player in the game ", remarks Syrio .

" We have much information to think on this night ", says Dany . " We will start training your dragons in simple commands on the morrow ." " Someone will be sent come evening supper in a little more than a hour ." With that we drift away from the table and I notice with interest Dany and Tyrion head off to patio her head bent slightly towards his small form .

Sandor drapes an arm over my shoulder as we walk to our rooms . My hunger for joining with him undiminished . I wrap my armabout him and work my hand to his back side and give it a squeeze . He responds by scooping me up in his strong arms and carrying us to our rooms . He takes me first to the privy, then the pillowed expanse of our bed, to be met by the screeches of our winged children . " We should feed them and they I will feed you, husband ", I say with a leer .

By the time they are exercised and fed a rap at the door indicates that it is time for evening meal . As we sit the table I notice that Lord Tyrion now sits at the Queen's right hand . Their heads bent in conversation once more . The meal is presented and it is some kind of fowl in a orange and pointed fruit glaze, the sweet and tang of it suits me . A root vegetable is also served, it is orange and sweet to the taste .

Sandor eats with relish and is served again . His ever present mug of water next to his plate, I remember the last time I ever smelled wine on his breath was the time on the road when I was attacked and the monster wearing a man's skin was essentially beheaded by one of Stranger's enormous hooves .

I love my husband . I know I have said it and thought it many times . I think back on the risks he took even in King's Landing offering me small comforts and advice, then to come to my rooms and offer me a safe harbor and still he sacrificed much to get me to Robb, to pledge his love and stand up to my mother . To give up wine which was so much a part of how I perceived him . To go to a strange land amid a different culture, to take a burn for me . I would kill for him and yes, I would die to protect him .

Sandor pushes himself from the table and takes my hand to place a kiss in my palm . "Shall we pick up from where we left off, my wife ?" Hhhmmmm, is all I'm capable of as he again scoops me up to carry me ( First to the privy ) , and then to the bed .

I notice a bothersome tightness in my back but choose to ignore it . He undresses me and my dress drops to the floor, I am assuming as I cannot see in front me the floor at my feet . He sets me down gently on the edge of the bed and I lay back, he spreads my legs wide and rubs the nub of my sex . He slides his tongue within me and pinches my nipples gently, I writhe and thrust my sex in his face, he replaces his tongue with fingers in my opening, then two, he sucks and licks my hardened sex and my passion mounts, I want him within me I want us joined I NEED him on me in me, I pull at his shoulders . He grants me my desire and slides his manhood within, careful to not go to far . He kneels at the side of the bed and sets a rhythm, rubbing my bud to the beat in his head my come his hard shooting pleasure from my core to the tips of my fingers and toes, I swear even my hair is coming as lights explode behind my blue eyes .

It feels as though water is rushing through me, a warm stream of love... My thought is broken as Sandor pulls away me from and points as I sit up and... Water is rushing through me or rather from me, I tell Sandor calmly to find the healer or a midwife or whatever is about the palace . His, mine, our child comes . He stands there like stone until I say his name rather sharply, then he throws on his breeches and takes off to find help . As a little more water leaks from me I am seized by a blinding pain, it feels as though a band of iron is squeezing my middle trying to pinch me in half while another pain in my lower back feels as though a large man is trying to drive a spike through my spine by slow degrees . I was not prepared for this level of pain and a scream rips through my mouth unbidden .

Moments later Sandor bursts through door the aged ship's healer in his arms, Dany, Tyrion and a woman unknown to me follows close behind . Another wracking pain mounts my pale body . Sandor paces and glares at Tyrion and says, " Why are you here ?! " " To assist in keeping you calm or help with the delivery, whatever is needed ." " There are two healers here or a healer and a midwife ." " True so why do you banter words with me when your wife needs you there ? " He points with a small finger . Sandor's head near twists from his shoulders looking to me he glares once more at the half man and rushes to my side .

Another squeeze takes me and more prepared for the level of pain I grit my teeth, my face reddened . Dany puts a cool, wet cloth to my forehead and Sandor squeezes in behind me to cradle me in his arms, resting against his broad chest . And so this scene played out for hours and hours . Every time I thought it would end another more powerful squeeze would seize my form . Sandor stroked my hair and and held me to him .

Finally as the sky greyed toward dawn the midwife and the ships healer say it is time to push the next squeeze that takes me . So I push and push and push . I had a moment of clarity and decided I am giving birth to a another Sandor, the full sized adult version I thought grimly . I push some more and am greeted by an announcement from both women and Dany that the head appears ! That's all ?! A head ?! I would think by the pain and amount of pushing I should have given birth to at least a dozen babes.

" It is important to get the head out ", says the ships healer everything else comes easily after that she says with a wrinkled smile . I look above me to my Lord husband and notice the size of his head . Something steals my voice to ask him why must his head be so big and it is obvious to me our child takes after his father and his big head . Sandor looks at me with some surprise and I hear Lord Tyrion in the distance say, " Worry not Clegane it is said all women curse the father's during labor ." " May it some day happen to you as well, Lannister . " And the barely heard response of, " Would that I were lucky enough to win the heart of a Lady fair . " after more squeezing of my middle and several more pushes the child's head breaches into the world, the next two squeezing's and my child is fully into the world . " You have a son my Lady and Ser ." He is cleaned and examined by swift knowing hands and swaddled and presented to me and placed at my breast . He has a shock of thick black hair, his tiny hands curled into fists . Sandor strokes lightly his head ( his BIG head I note ) and then his cheek . He kisses me softly a top my head and says, " Thank you my wife for this gift . "

" And what are you to name this new member of our family across the sea ? " " Eddard, Sandor and I say in one voice ." " That is a good, strong and honorable name , may he grow into with wisdom and honor ", from Tyrion . He sucks greedily at my breast for a time then I turn him to my shoulder to burp him as I had seen my Lady mother do to my younger siblings . I am rewarded by a loud burp . Dany watches with tears in her own eyes and I ask her if she would like to meet her new nephew and I hand him to her . She takes him gently and says, " Hello Eddard I am your Aunt Daenary's but you may call me Dany ."


	29. Chapter 29 A Woman Grown

***This chapter again deals with sexual assault, sensitive readers need to be aware of this I don't want to trigger anyone or cause emotional distress*** That being said Happy Holidays and here's four more chapters, enjoy !

As Sandor and I stand the outer wall of Winterfell watching Landon, Anjelae and their retinue recede into the distance I feel a sense of both accomplishment and sadness. Sandor, ever attuned to my emotions offers a cuddle and a kiss and leads me to the warmth of the kitchens. Tyrion and Dany are both there finishing their meals .

I know they too must leave and soon, the business of running a kingdom ever pressing.

" They are well suited to each other and will make fine leaders you know ", from Tyrion. " Yes, we were remarking on it just now ", says Dany.

A wave a nausea hits me and before I can utter a sound a steaming bowl of mother's soup is placed in front of me, courtesy of Culla, with a wink and a smile. Sandor also breaks his fast in the kitchens and soon he and Tyrion are deep in discussion on the raising of another keep in the North. While Dany and I have our own talk of motherhood.

" So how, pray tell how did you convince Tyrion to try for another child ? "

" I have my ways ", says she with a blush to her cheeks.

" I'm sure you do ", I say with an arched brow. To which we both dissolve into laughter and got curious looks from our men.

We are soon joined by Suozahn who looks more than a little worse for wear after last nights festivities. A meek smile and a request of tea and warm bread her only wants. I look at her and remember the first time we met in Quarth several weeks after I gave birth to Ned...

I am accustomed to the rhythm of our new home. Thankfully Ned has gotten into a routine as well and sleeps at least five hours through the night. He is fascinated by the dragons and they of him. They are intelligent creatures having already learned the commands stay and come and no.

Tyrion and the Silver Queen spend most days in each others company her thirst for knowledge and everything about Westeros insatiable. Dany is a fair ruler except when it comes to assaults against women of any age or ilk. I oft sit in at court to learn what it is to rule. The cases today are mostly debt related of one person owing another. Then comes a case of rape of a child. The man is brutish, slopped shouldered, greasy of hair, with a rabid look to his eyes which are small, furtive and dark.

The child in question was brought forth. She is thin to the point of emaciation, bruises cover her arms and legs, dark circles like ink smudges are beneath her eyes giving her a hollow appearance . Her eyes...They are of a blue as mine. Though her skin is marked by black and blue and filthy I think she has my pale skin as well. This girl is of the North I swear it. My observations did not go unnoticed by the Queen.

To the accused she asks, " What say you of the charges against thee ? "

" I didn't rape no girl. "

To the girl she asks, " What did he do child ? "

The girl tries to speak but but only a hoarse rasp comes from her mouth.

Ser Barriston while casting a harsh look towards the accused says, " Do to the nature of the assault she is unable to speak ", your Grace.

Danys brows knit together and her eyes slide to the brute. " Well if you did not rape her what did you do ? "

" I tried to fuck her but her cunt was too tight, so I shoved my cock in her mouth to fuck her throat and the little bitch bit me ! " " So I slapped her around a bit but it's not like I killed her or anything. " " She was in a pleasure house and was being billed as fresh from the North. I never had no North cunny from across the sea. " " Does it not bother you she is a child ?! " From the Queen. " Cunt is cunt as long as it's warm I not much care, besides they said she bleeds and her teats though small are budding and tasty ", says he with a leer.

It is all I can do not to charge down the steps to the floor and run him through but not before I cut his tongue and cock from him I think with a sense of justice and...Glee ?

" You are judged guilty of an attack on a child in a manner which is repulsive and profane . " " I sentence you to be castrated, root and stem and be tended to so as not to kill you." " Your throat will be cut your tongue pulled through and your own sex will be shoved into your mouth and your sex be pulled through the cut as well to dangle as so much meat, your lips will be sewn shut so you may not spat out that which you are fed. " " You shall also be impaled upon a length of wood sharpened at one end, you wish to shove things in children, let you experience it first hand ."

" Strongback, Swiftfoot, take this animal to be dealt with and see he survives. " " His final punishment will be administered at another time of my choosing. "

Two men in loin cloths and funny hats snatch the criminal by both upper arms and drag his now gibbering form to places unknown.

Dany looks at the wide eyed girl. " I know you cannot speak but I will ask only yes or no questions of you, okay ? " " She nods once her large blue eyes holding those of the Queens. " " Do you know your letters ? " She holds up her thumb and forefinger to form a small space between them. " Give her a quill and some ink and parchment ", directs Dany. She writes slowly in a bold hand the name of Souzahn Snow. " I was right, she is of the North ", I say quietly to no one in particular.

She stares now at me with some intent. " Do you know this woman ? ", from Dany. Her blue eyes dance between Dany and myself. " Where are you from ? " She draws a picture of the walls and parapets of Winterfell. " Then you know who this is then ? " She nods and points from me to her picture of Winterfell, from Winterfell to me. " Send her to Syrio, I would know more of her ", says Dany to Ser Barriston. With a bow and, " As you wish, your Grace " , he and the girl depart.

Court over for the day I return to my husband and child as it's time to feed Ned. I find them on the patio Sandor showing him his Great sword, Bane. I stand behind them for a moment to hear Sandor describing the various parts to it and their function. He ends with someday this sword will be yours my son as he nuzzles the top of Ned's head. " Starting his arms instruction already my husband ? " I tease. It is Sandor's turn to feel the heat of blush upon his cheeks.

He gives me one of his crooked grins and stands to greet me with a sweet kiss. Ned's small arms waggle and he kicks his legs by way of greeting. I walk with my son in my arms and sit the bed to feed him. He latches greedily onto my nipple. My breasts are sore and...Huge, my nipples chapped the first week of feeding my son. The midwife gave me a balm and it helped much.

I look with longing at my husbands broad back, at the hair on his chest peeking out from his tunic as he turns to me. His linen breeches snug on his backside and thighs. I watch as he dons the lighter layers of this land. I am counting the days until I may love him again physically after I have fully healed. Ned has finished feeding and I burp him and switch to the other breast which he responds to with vigor. When he is finished I lay him down for his midday nap.

" Husband a girl from the North was in court today", I say casually. My husbands reaction is anything but casual. He comes to me swiftly and grasps my arms all but shaking me for information. I relate the sad tale. He nods with approval at the punishment given to the criminal. " How many more children and women have been stolen from our Land to be bought and sold as so much chattel ?! " " Husband I want you and the others to seek out these pleasure houses and see if there are more like her."

" My wife I can tell you there are many of them. " " You think all children or women are runaways, eaten by predators or fell down a ravine ? " " Nay, they are abducted and spirited in the bellies of slave ships and sometimes in the holds of so called honest merchants. " " The coin one gains in human cargo too much to refuse for some. " " Some are beaten into submission but those of fairer flesh are oft drugged with tainted wine. " " When we retake Winterfell and we rule the North we will address this issue, my husband ", I say with renewed conviction. " So we shall my Little Bird, so we shall. "

As we make our way to midday meal I see the young girl from court has now joined us. She is cleaned up and wearing a dress of linen dyed in shades of blue, a belt of matching fabric cinches it at her small waist. He eyes near start from her as she takes in Sandor's large frame. He cradles still sleeping Ned in the crook of his arm but is soon relieved of him by an aunt eager to hold him. Dany takes him gently from his father's arms and cradles him to her. Her eyes light up whenever Ned is in her arms. She goes to sit by Tyrion who brushes gently his pink cheek and says, " About time someone showed up here that is shorter than I ", to the chuckles of those assembled, including Sandor.

" Lest you think I am remiss Sansa as we sit this table men are scouring the cities pleasure houses to see if there are anymore children. " " This manner of depravity sickens me and I will not knowingly abide it. " From Syrio comes, " This young girl says you knew her mother ", directed at me. " I do ? " " Yes something about lemon cakes or tarts, her mother would give them to you, especially if you were feeling down ? " " Traecii " " Her mothers name was Traecii, she was a cooks assistant . " " Suozahn nods her head hard and tears spring form her eyes . " " Where is your mother child ? " She points to her drawing of Winterfell.

" We know Theon Greyjoy took Winterfell and it is now in the hands of another ", says Ser Barriston. " Whom is that ? " Suozahn hands a drawing to Tyrion who's eyebrows shoot up in surprise, he hands it Dany and the picture makes it's way to me. The drawing is of a flayed man, Sigil of House Bolton. " My father's bannerman ?! " " Yes we had a raven saying as much but had no way to confirm ", again from Ser Barriston. " However it isn't Roose, it's his bastard daemon spawn the former Ramsey Snow, now referred to as Ramsey Bolton. " " He's a sadistic sort and enjoys games with women kind involving a hunt. " My small hands curl into fists and Sandor covers one with his large hand to give a gentle squeeze.

A slow fury breeds within me, I stand and address the assemblage. " The more I hear of these degradation's the more I intend to sweep the Land of this foulness with the fury of steel and hellfire. " " We have five more months till our mounts are air worthy and I intend to work long days training not only the dragons but myself ", as I look to my husband and Syrio and Ser Barriston. " It is not enough to be a Rider I must also be a Mistress to steel as well, my Lord husband has taught me much but I must needs to learn war craft as well, all of your combined battle lore you must impart to Dany and I. " " If I intend to call my father's bannermen back to our Sigil and unite with Daenerys forces to rid Westeros of the insanity it now suffers from I...WE must be worthy of the blood shed in our names and for our cause. "

Ser Barriston's heads slowly nods and a small smile appears on his face. " You Lord father would be proud to know his child is now a woman grown and has found her Northern steel, as am I. " I look to Sandor and he gives me his crooked grin and rests his hand on my hip. Pride also shines from his eyes. From Tyrion, " I agree with the She~Wolf, they both must be trained in battle lore, in the event that they are separated from us... Or we fall. "

Starting the following morning after our dragon training Dany and I were instructed on battle craft from ancient battles to our own times. As the weeks went by we both took to our lessons and learned the differences in seize engines, catapults, trebuchets, the secret of wild fire, parley, honor codes of men and warfare. Parley, Dany and I agree there will be no parley for some. I think to myself I am glad we come atop dragons breathing fire, I think at times the only way to cleanse Westeros is to char it from one end to the other to get the corruption from it. We were instructed on Robert Baratheon's rebellion and his war craft, I was proud to know my Lord father was considered an excellent strategist an proved invaluable to insuring Robert sat the Iron Throne.

More disturbing news from beyond the Wall, the Others and their minions slowly advance to the Wall and there be not enough men to mount it's defenses. My brother Jon has recruited women wildings to man the barren outposts long abandoned by the Night's Watch for lack of man power. The man who claims himself King, Stannis has been to the Wall and left a small amount of men to help defend it along with his wife and daughter. I am proud of Jon, though it shames me how badly I treated him at times. He is now the Lord Commander of the Night's Watch, to the chagrin of many I am sure. I pray he can hold the Other's and them that trudge alongside with cold limbs and glowing eyes until we can get to him...


	30. Chapter 30 SheWolves

***I'd like to talk about my thoughts on House Sigil's and names and how the New Westeros of my mind goes. A female child now takes the mother's name as her first surname followed by the father's. Once a woman marries her mother's name is dropped and she uses her father's name as her first and her husband's last. As in Anjelae Stark~Clegane is now Anjelae Clegane~Winterfell. The Stark Sigil still exists and it still retains it's original look. House Clegane's Sigil is now the snarling hound's Great helm on a background of the yellow of autumn. However, Sansa's and Sandor's united crest and that of the Queen and the North, has their house colors in the background switched to display solidarity of one house, one North and one rule..Make sense ?*** Also the next chapters will switch between our characters and their time frames***

In Westeros... " The She~Wolf now has a new pet we are informed. " " What, you mean besides the Dog ? " " Yes your Grace, she has joined the Silver Queen and Ser Barriston and the dance master Syrio. " " Both her and her husband now possess dragons. " " She has also birthed a cub of her own. " " And what of your man that had been following the Dog and Syrio ? " " He has not been seen since following Clegane and Syrio into an alley. " " Fine do what you must to kill the lot of them. " " As soon as the Queen Regent's trial is over we can begin the eradication of the Old God's and their believers " " As you wish your Grace ", as I creep away because that's what Spiders do...

...In the vast forests before we gain our new seat of Frosthaven, Ematta pauses, hackles raised, a low growl issuing from her throat and then we are set upon by a band of thirty or so men, who then turn and disappear over the ridge ahead of us. My instinct is to run them down but my new husband directs a perimeter to be established and the children within it. " Why do we not chase them and kill them ?! " I ask Landon, " Because that is what they wish, to divide our forces chasing shadows while their main force attacks our people ! " The words were barely out of his mouth when a hundred men charge from the thicket to our right, from the very ground around us out of bolt holes and from our left flank come fifty more, they are ragged with hungry eyes but neither heavily armed or armored.

They are met by three hundred of our spear points and a snarling Ematta, I see even the non warrior spouses and children are all armed, some with tools of their trade or cook pots. I see a brawny youth wielding a bakers stone rolling pin to great effect against the bare heads and unarmored limbs of our attackers. I charge amid the fray hacking and slashing and I see with a glad heart we are repelling the attack. Even the small ones attack from low to trip, stab or bludgeon the lower legs of the attackers. Landon is trying to gain ground to get to a rangy man in furs, a bone necklace adorns his scrawny neck as he directs his side of the battle pointing savage war club.

I see with fear Landon doesn't see his danger approaching from his back as an enemy creeps upon him, he and our men around him busy with the forward fight. I know I will not be able to gain him before it is too late when a sudden feathered arrow sprouts from his attackers back to spread a red bloom of blood from the wound. I look to see a boy of thirteen, Ael, but one of the best young hunters from Winterfell notching yet another arrow to strike snake quick at another attacker from his perch on a wagon's seat. A small girl armed with a kitchen knife slashes at the unwary attackers from her perch beneath the same wagon's seat. A spray of bright blood splashes her small face from an arterial hit on her last victim.

The tide was turning when another hundred attackers join the fray, I am wondering where all of these men are coming from, they seem to sprout like daemon mushrooms bent on our destruction. I think how much I wish my Lord father or my Lady mother was here to help me make the right decision. I shake my head and scream to myself I will not die here nor will my people or my husband. I let lose a battle cry and take my mount head long into a knot of my enemy my charger slashing, with hoof and biting any incautious combatant who ventures too close, I have thirty spears of mine own on either side of me and we cut a bloody swath through the attackers. I get within range and take a throwing axe from my side and aim for the rangy man. He stumbles just before it reaches him and it tumbles harmlessly over his bent form.

A man screams holding the ragged hole where once his eye sat to my right dropping the spear he meant to skewer me with. I look to my back and see two identical twin boys armed with sling shots taking out more aggressors, their aim most impressive. I remind myself that all should be trained in this weapon and to reward their bravery as I will all, IF we gain this day.

I hear the sound of a horn, it is not a metal horn, the notes too deep. Over the ridge where the first attackers fled now comes a a party of two hundred men and women strong. I see they carry a Sigil banner, it is of Lord Shagga who directs a three pronged attack from his side. In a matter of minutes the enemy all but beaten either dead or soon wishing the were. I see many disappear into bolt holes or run scampering through the thickets and brambles. Lord Shagga comes abreast of Landon and I and dismounts as we do. I am Shagga Lord of the Winter's Gift he says with a broad smile missing more than a few teeth. He is a bear of a man. Almost as tall as my Lord father. He too is broad of shoulder and has a great round belly and a bushy beard covering most of his face and a goodly amount of his chest. He is in bear hides and leather, I see severed heads adorn the horn of his saddle, no doubt belonging to our original attackers.

A young man comes up to us and introduces himself as Grond, Son of Shagga. " We had been tracking these nomads for some days, when we heard of your coming and tried to come to meet you with some haste but have been beset by hit and run attacks for days. " This young man has clear eyes and all his teeth, by his speech he is well educated, to his advantage. " Father was just glad to get out and knock a few heads together as he puts it . " Says Grond of his Lord father.

We make rounds of our wounded, mostly we came through unscathed, various cuts a few broken bones and one notable exception. A youth and newly made soldier by his armors markings. The smell strikes me before my eyes see the damage wrought on his form. His bowel has been pierced and coils of it lay strewn about him like grey rope. His eyes are open and our Maester looks to me and shakes his head. Would we were at Frosthaven I would be hard pressed to offer him much but the gift of milk of the poppy or mercy.

I kneel to him and he struggles to rise I try to calm him and he says, " I will not die on my back my Lady ", he says through pain seared eyes and gritted teeth. I help him resting his head and back against my left knee. He looks into my eyes, he is so young, he isn't even shaving I think with sadness. He utters one word, " Mercy. " I slide my dagger and place it behind his head were his skull meets his spine and with a quick thrust send my blade into his lower brain. He stiffens and his eyes see no more. Landon places a comforting hand on my shoulder and eases me from the now dead body of our soldier. Lord Shagga comes over and presents me with the head of the rangy man, his bone necklace shoved beteen his teeth.

I walk to my new Sigil, the united coat of arms of Houses Winterfell, a grey silhouette of the Keep of Winterfell on a white back ground and that of my Lord father's House of the Great Helm of the Hound on a field of yellow. Atop the spear point of my banner I place the head of my first enemy.

Lord Shagga nods with approval and says something to Grond who says, " You are a force to be reckoned with Lady Winterfell, your parents will be proud to know you have your mother's steel and your father's savagery. " " Both will serve you well. "

The Maester instructs the young soldiers body to be salted at my request, he will not have an unmarked grave, he will be buried with honor in the land he fought hard for but never got to see I had decided...

And across the sea of many years ago...Late afternoons are reserved for martial drills and training. Neither Sandor, Syrio or Ser Barriston give us any quarter. We are bruised and battered and sometimes bloody but today I do not care for tonight I will love my husband deeply and he me I think with a small grin.

The day dragged on until evening meal. The topic tonight is word of Ser Berric Dondarrion and his seeming ability to survive even grave wounding's, he is joined by the red priest Mythos and they abduct, try and hang many Lannister's men at arms as well as a Frey. There is word also of Maegery Tyrell's innocence of infidelity and it is her hand that now guides Tommen who sits the Iron Throne. We hear news of Cercei's imprisonment and subsequent walk of penance and shame. I would have given much to see that. There is whispers also of a new King's Guardsman, a Ser Robert Strong. No one knows his face or lineage. It is whispered he neither eats nor drinks and he is a giant of a man. Much like my Sandor's dead cur of a brother, Gregor.

The conversation winds down and I am pleased to see Suozahn becoming less fearful and more open. She regained the use of her voice after two weeks and isn't shy of it's use.

As our friends drift from the table we too take our leave to our rooms. I feed our son and we play and talk with him his bright eyes still the greyish brown of newborns. After a time he tires and we put him down for the evening. I think to myself we have at least five hours.

I invite my husband to our bed and as I pull his tunic over his head and marvel at the lines of his form I see the straining of his cock against his linen breeches. I tease him with sucks and gentle nibbles to the head as his own head is thrown back and and a moan escapes from his lips, he tangles his fingers in my locks. I rise to lock him in a lasting kiss and rub my belly against his stiffened member. He all but rips me out of my dress and takes my nipples in between his thumbs and forefingers to roll and pull and pinch them my women parts are flushed with heat and want.

He nudges me onto the bed never once releasing my hardened nipples, I quiver with excitement knowing on this night I will get everything my husband has to offer. He replaces one hand with his mouth and tongue and teeth I arch my back and grind my breast into his waiting and attentive mouth. He fingers my opening slipping inside me my juices flow over his fingers a second finger breaches me. His expert touch has me to the brink of my come and he pulls back my hips thrusting upwards seeking his touch.

He lowers his head to hips and nibbles them gently while moving to my inner thighs, I know what comes next and am not disappointed as his tongue flicks on the hard bead of my sex. My legs spread wide wanting his love to fill my every space. He obliges and thrusts his cock into my center but I want more. I throw a leg over and twist until I am on my my hands and knees. He slides himself deep and withdraws slow, the ache of my need creeps slow into my very bones it seems I want his come to be hard and all encompassing. He flips me back over and pulls me up until I am impaled on him and walks to a wall and puts my back to it. His thrusts become urgent his cock harder still he fills every inch I have within me. I have my arms wrapped about his head and back and with each movement it seems I gain even more of my husband, he is embedded deep within me and driving hard into all that is me. My come explodes like the light from a thousand suns and my woman hood milks Sandor's thick, heavy cock of his seed in urgent pulses. I dig hide from his back which only incites him to continue to pound himself further and deeper still as his come hits hard and insistent from his loins.

My big man buries his face in my hair to murmur his love for me. He gratefulness of my gift to him of a fine healthy son...


	31. Chapter 31 And Two Becomes Three

Ned's eyes have settled into the color of blue as mine own. He is a happy child full of burbles as babies oft are. He lifts his head and tries to roll over and has found his feet and fingers and face and has the scratches on his cheeks to prove it. Sandor and I both came running when he let out a yell to curl both our hair and when we gained his cradle side it was his own hand that pinched his cheek to pain.

My husband is more confident in fatherhood and handles Ned with ease even sometimes changing his soiled wraps. He has remarked more than once how is it something so cute and small can fill his wraps with a God's awful stink. I prefer to change him myself or have the midwife who visits often or one of the helper girls. I love Sandor but he has yet to change Ned's wrap without getting it a bigger mess than it started out with. I wonder if he does it on purpose so as to vex me into making sure he doesn't change our son I think with narrowing eyes.

It is while the midwife plays with Ned that I look upon her face, her eyes a shade of grey that reminds me of Arry. I pause for a moment ...Unless I am much mistaken her eyes were the same brown of Sandor's before were they not ? She raises her face to meet my gaze and with a smile she moves her hand from forehead to chin.

Before me is Arya. My jaw hangs slack and she says, " Sister, best close your mouth lest a fly make it's home therein ." I rush to her and hug her and see though she is still slender she has grown several inches and has some muscle to her form. " I could not leave to go about my work till I knew for certain you were safe and...Loved. " " My nephew is beautiful and strong, much as his father ." " I was surprised at how my revulsion and fear of him turned to love and respect " says I to Arry. " Sometimes you find that which you seek or desire in unexpected places. " " I ask her how she is and she says all is well but she must be taking her leave soon. " Will I see you again ? " " Perhaps someday and maybe sooner than you might think. " With that she nestles Ned in his cradle and hugs me fiercely and whispers, " Keep your left arm up when using bladed weapons in both hands, you have a tendency to droop a bit, that could cost you someday ", she says with a wink and she bounds to the door and closes it quickly behind her.

After midday meal I meet the Silver Queen in the practice yard and see we are joined by a third. Young Souzahn is also there and I see she is equipped for combat as well. Dany says with a smile that she has been tutored by Syrio for some weeks and he feels it's time she join us in practice. What she lacks in size she more than makes up for in speed and accuracy that night both Dany and I had new bruises to show for her efforts.

Sandor has a bit of gossip for me in the evening as we lay awake in bed that night. " So it seems Dany and Tyrion now share the same bed. " I rise up on an elbow and ask how he knows this. " Simple I went to Tyrion's room to discuss battle techniques and he wasn't in his rooms. " I sought him out thinking they were in one of their hours long talks. " When I knocked on the door to her rooms Tyrion says come in and I did, it appears they thought me a serving girl because he said, put it on the table please. " " When I said what would that be he starts and Danys small head peeps from beneath the sheets. " " So what was the it ? " " Ah, his dragon egg ." " His dragon will not have to be so old has he is so small, I think perhaps his mount can carry him by four or five months old. "

" How goes his mounts saddle ? " I ask. " Well enough I would suppose though he needs to see it in practice as well as theory. "  
" I see. " " It comes time for them to blow flame my husband. " " Yes I am aware of that fact my wife. " Is all he says.

I snuggle against his warmth and lay my head upon his chest and think as the veils of sleep take me I listen to the beating of his mighty and hidden heart...

In Westeros..." Have you made any progress yet Spider ? " " None as yet your Grace, they are well guarded and new faces are carefully screened . " " Well what of the many faced men can not one of them be contracted to do the deed ? " " I have inquired to that end and am met with resistance, your Grace. " " I see. " " What of Lord Baelish ? " " He moves his pawns but is no closer than we to attaining his goals. " " And you are sure of this ? " " Yes, your Grace, he sits atop the Aerie bedding not only Jon Arryn's widow but some bastard named Mya Stone as well. " " Keep close tabs on this person, it would do not well if he interfered with our plans. "  
" As you wish, your Grace. " With that I take my leave...

...As we clear the last ridge I espy Frosthaven. It's walls are tall and thick it sits a point of land and three of it's sides are banked by cliffs. The only access a narrowed strip of land gained only from a draw bridge. It was picked to place here because of it's defensive capabilities and is fed by a natural sweet water spring as well as hot springs. Within it's walls runs hot water the same as Winterfell. Another butte is across it and gained by a series of bridges as well. on the plateau are fields of winter root vegetables and some grazing land.

Lord Shagga and his force rode escort to us and sent runners ahead to prepare for our coming. We were bothered no more as by my count we had nearly a thousand fighters ( I was of course including the spouses and children of my soldiers ), We were well met when we crossed the draw bridge to our new home. Stable hands waited for us to dismount and men and women of the Keep directed the newcomers on where to go or what to do. It took the better part of the remaining day to get everyone situated and settled. I think with pride on our travels and battle.

My mouth watered on the scents wafting from the kitchens and I followed my nose to it's source. It was a warm and inviting place and a young girl of perhaps six comes to me with a hot mug of cacao. I smile and take it form her and she gives me a careful curtsy and turns to scamper off on an unknown errand.

A round woman of early years and green eyes with chubby dimpled cheeks approaches wiping her hands on her apron. " My Lady, welcome home ! " She says while curtsying. " Please ", I say, " We are not in court and formalities are appreciated but not required lest we are in court. " Yes my Lady, as you say . " " My name is, " , " Maerii ", I finish, another dimpled grin and a nod of her head to confirm. " Evening meal will be ready any time my Lady desires it to be served. " " Excellent, we will dine in the main hall this evening. " " Yes, my Lady ! " And with a flurry of skirts she picks up a wooden spoon to point at this and that. I go then to my hall.

It is large and could easily seat two thousand . The floors are scrubbed clean and the tables and benches are pristine and I see Landon and my seats at the head of the main table. I notice also four men bringing two more seats for Lord Shagga and his son. Our Maester Tamm hurries into ask if there is anything to he need add to his message to my parents at Winterfell of our safe arrival. I say yes, that I love and miss them both he smiles and says , " As you wish my Lady ."

I ask to be led to my rooms and again the small girl from the kitchen reappears I ask her name and she says, " Esme, my Lady. " and proceeds to lead me up, up and up some more to a richly appointed set of rooms. The sitting room is warmed by a blazing fire, I go to the privy and see it also is neatly maintained. I go through a his and hers solar and arrive finally at the bedroom. A large canopied bed of heavy dark wood is in the center. It's trappings are in grey and gold of our crest. Rugs cover most of the floor in the bed chamber and another fire burns merrily here as well. I am pleased by my rooms and stand to go to notice a large patio expanse outside it. As I pass by a table adorned with winter blooms I notice a parchment. It is addressed to me in my father's neat hand.

It reads, My child, you are a woman grown and your mother and I are proud beyond measure of you and your accomplishments. Here you will learn the temperance of time, you will hone your steel as your Lady mother did all those years ago. May you grow into your birthright with wisdom and grace. I love you, Dadii

I hold it to my chest and think I am fortunate indeed to have been raised by a man who understood what it means to be a father. Who participated in my triumphs and was there to help me rise from defeats. I hope my Landon will be as good a daddii.

I depart our rooms and seek out my Lord husband and find him settling still the horses. My brother Ned gave Landon a war horse he himself trained. It is a tall black beast of questionable temperament to others. However I see Landon feeding him a carrot from his mouth and the stallion takes it gently from him.

" Is it time yet to eat, my wife ? " He says without turning around. Yes I believe it is. I go to him and wrap my arms round him and kiss him soundly on his lips. He returns my ardor with his own then breaks our kiss to slap me on my rump and roust me from our kiss.  
" Then let us go to it then, wife I am near famished. "

I smile to myself as I cannot wait to tell Landon that we two shall become three in some months to come. I have missed my moon blood while on the road. I am eager also to inform my parents but will wait until I tell Landon.

As we walk arm in arm to our great hall I think on how best to tell him...

Maester Obyrt comes to our solar and hands us a message from Frosthaven from Anjelae. We are gladdened by their arrival but concerned of the attack. Sandor stands and paces and says, " It is time the nomads are put in their place, wife." And I agree completely. Arrangements are made to be Riders in two days time.

Nomads are of no particular group but made up of many. The do not sow or have permanent places to live. Some say they are made up of fighting men too far and too jaded to ever return to whatever place they called home. Sandor is of a mind they are nothing but rapists, robbers and highwaymen and should be dealt with accordingly. After the attack on our child and people I tend to agree.

Ravens are sent not only to Frosthaven but Lord Shagga's Keep of NorthStarsGift and to Queen's Landing as well.

The day dawns crisp and bright but we have been in the air already six hours we are roughly a half hour from the site of the attack. We see from the sky dots of nomad presence and we come in hard and fast. We take three groups completely unaware in the open space before the great wood. The others scatter and go to ground. Sandor alights and throws open some bolt holes and commands Halcion to put his snout at the bolt hole and strides a few meters away to say, " Dracarys " and hell on and in earth reigns. I sore above the tree tops  
eyes scanning the under brush and terrain.

I watch as flames lick from other holes as the fire spreads beneath ground a few flaming men gain the surface to stagger a few steps and collapse. Sandor finds a dozen more holes and sends Halcion's breath to invade them all. Knowing he didn't get everyone and knows for a certainty that unseen eyes watch him he bellows, " I am Sandor Clegane, the party you attacked was mine own child and that of the Queen of the North. To threaten her I have killed a number of you and I will continue to do so until I am dead, or you are . " With that he mounts Halcion to join me in the skies and we veer to our daughters seat...


	32. Chapter 32 Assassin

In the great hall of Frosthaven I am hostess to our first meal within it. Landon, my husband sits to my right, Lord Shagga to my left. his son Grond sits at Landon's right. I see many of this Keep attend it's inaugural feast including those we brought with us. Once the feast is under way I rise to become better acquainted with faces unknown to me. I greet them and ask after their families and wonder inside how I am to learn all these new names.

Shagga and Landon's heads are leaned towards the other, deep in conversation no doubt securing our houses to one another. The Lord of NorthStarsGift wants us to foster one of his son's and take him to squire.

I wish to stretch my legs and rise to walk the hall.

The small moppet of a girl named Esme I first met in the kitchens skips to my side, her eyes a shade of the grey of steel. She grasps my hand with her own and walks beside me making comments about the foods and various peoples. I ask her where is she from and she says only, the North. Her parents are both dead long years I also get from her. I think to myself it cannot be that many years as she's no more than six years of age.

As we walk the length of the tables and watch the people, my people I hope in my heart I up to the task of leading. I have every confidence in my Lord husband. His clarity of thought saved lives in the attack.

A man with furtive eyes and ill intent makes his way through the serving girls and milling people.

I was alerted to him by my small escorts sudden cessation of movement. Her grey eyes follow a man heading our way, his hands hidden in the folds of his cloak. I thumb my sword Heart's Bane from my scabbard, as if by magic my escort also produces a small thin blade.

His wild eyes see only me as he closes the gap between us to a few strides and shrugs his cloak from his shoulders to reveal his is armed with war club and an axe, before I can close the gap to meet his steel with my own he throws the war hammer I deflect it with mine own blade it spins off to smack the moppet in the forehead. Two men rise from the bench too, baring arms from behind and to the left of my attacker, seeing he is surrounded he presses on to meet my steel...That and the mailed fist of the soldier who rose from his left. He crumples like a sack of vegetables to lay prone at my feet.

He is secured and drug to the room of questioning. I go to the unconscious form of the moppet. She looks so small still and ...Different. I see she is still small but wiry and much, much older. I pick up her blade. I do not recognize it. I turn it to find it's makers mark. I find it and it stuns me...MWF..." Find Maester Tamm ", I bark, " I must need send a raven to Winterfell ! "

" Care for the stranger, place a guard..Make it two guards on her. "

Landon gains my side to wrap his arms about me and ask for my safety in my ear. " Who is the girl ? " " I know not my husband but I intend to find out. "

Maester Tamm appears with parchment, ink and quill, " Send this to my parents, a description of this blade and ask them to come to Frosthaven. " " Yes, my Lady. "

...Sandor and I both love to fly, there is a freedom unknown to land bound riders. We bank as we see the walls of Frosthaven, the dragons land on the other side of a draw bridge. The bridge is up and a watchman sends a hail of greeting to us and begs we remount our dragons and land amid the courtyard. Sandor grasps my hand and bids me to soar far above, he will go first and send the signal if all is well.

I do as he bids and once Sandor lands his mount and talks with people below he turns to his mount and Halcion blows three short gout's of flame. My mount nose dives and pulls up at the last moment to land gracefully on her legs. We send both away to hunt or play whatever is their want.

I am greeted by my daughter and Landon. Worry knits both their brows. After pleasantries are exchanged we are ushered into a small warm room off the great hall. I note there are two guardsmen positioned at the door. As is Anjelae's Direwolf, Ematta.

One of the guards opens the door and both follow us into the small room ( Ematta noses her way through us to place a large paw on the cot as if to shake it's occupant awake ), They position themselves between us and the small form on the narrow cot spears pointed at the lump. Who turns to look at us with a heart shaped face and large grey eyes. I smile and turn to my daughter to say, " This is your Aunt Arya. " She has a large lump on her forehead that is now purple going to green at it's edges.

" It is good to see you again my sister ", says my Lady mother. I stand dumbfounded glancing from mother to aunt.

" It is to soon for you to answer my call ", say I to my parents. " What call ? " They say as one. For this, as I point to my aunt. " No child, we were about harrying the nomads. " " Your father burned a few bolt holes and we got more on open ground. "

Our small family reunion continues. I know my Aunt Arya has not seen my Lady mother in long years, not since I was small. I have a vague memory of her from at least fourteen years ago.

It is near the time of evening meal, I lead my parents to our great hall to find it alive with the people of Frosthaven. A see two more chairs are added to the head seat and food and people await our arrival. As one they bow our curtsy to the Queen of the North and her Prince. My mother's warm smile lights up the hall and I hear whispers of, " He really is huge, he looks not like a dog to me, Her Grace's belly is huge, I want to ride dragons ", and on and on. Many of the young have never seen their Queen and Prince before.

As we gain our seats all wait for my parents to imbibe before they themselves partake of the evening meal. My mother indulges them by spooning mother's soup to her mouth and the meal commences. My father eats with relish his favorite meal of wild boar and mashed with thick brown gravy.

He offers my mother a few bites. I look at her big belly and think it funny both our children with grow up together and be less than a year apart. Two small ones approach bearing flowers of the North, they are four and two the sister the eldest. I know this as they are Maerii's the kitchen Mistress' babes. The girl curtsies and nudges her wide eyed brother who bows with too much vigor and over balances himself to fall head long into the steps, he lands on his rump his pale face turns the red of beets and inhales long and hard to let loose a wail to bring the roof down upon us.

I am proud of our daughter and watch as two small ones approach the girl has a clutch of flowers in her small hands. She curtsies and nudges her remiss brother (?) who bows and all but throws himself headlong into the lowest step, Sandor and I rise and I judge by the amount of breath the little boy gathers in his lungs that we are in for a wail of the ages. I did not miss my mark as he lets loose, Sandor scoops him up and hands him to me and I offer what comfort I can placing gentle kisses on the lump growing by the moment on his forehead. I offer him a morsel of lemon cake and he quiets. A round woman rushes forth and offers a quick curtsy, Anjelae says she is the children's mother and cook to Frosthaven.

I hand over her son and remark how good the mother's soup is and Sandor echoes my sentiment on the fine boar and thick gravy, she smiles so wide it seems she is all cheeks, dimples and teeth. " Thank you, your Graces' ! " Says she and she excuses herself to tend to the lump on her son's head.

The little girl stands showing a smile bereft of her two front teeth. She hands me the flowers and skips away merrily.

The two guardsmen that thwarted the attack on my person are now members of my personal guard. Laen and Kurtys are their names both men of the North. They are ever alert, their eyes never still, taking in the sights and sounds of life in a Keep. Neither are married, Laen's wife died last winter I was told in childbirth. Kurtys has remarked he is married to his sword and has no intention of taking a wife as of yet.

Some of the bolder boys approach our seats and ask of my father if they may see his Great sword Bane. My father's eyes light up as picks it up as it leaned against his seat, he stands to his full height and walks slowly to meet the boys, half of which look ready to bolt. He slides Bane from it's scabbard, slowly, so they ( and him ) may enjoy the moment longer. The boys eyes widen to the size of cookies as he presents Bane to them, he holds Bane in his hands, turns it over to ooohs and aaahs.

Some of the men find a reason to make their way to see a sword that helped win a kingdom and freed the North. I hear more whispers of, " Yes that's the blade, Like a daemon does he wield it, I once was at a tourney when I was small and saw him clash with the Mountain, his brother with it and Cut men in half he did at Blackwater ! "


	33. Chapter 33 Separation

In a dank, dark place in the bowels of Frosthaven sits my attacker. My Aunt Arya has questioned him, as has my Landon. He speaks not of his intent. After the feast my parent's and I are in the solar of Landon and my apartments.

" I have bad news and wonderful news ", says I. " Which do want first ? " My father raises his shaggy head, his eyes intent upon me. " How about the bad news, we already know you carry a child ", he says with a wink. I cock my head with question and he says, " I have been through ten, nay eleven pregnancies, I know a woman pregnant when I see them. " His crooked smile gracing his face.

" A man tried to kill me in my own hall. " " Is he one of them, whose heads grace the spikes of the Keep, like the one who's bone necklace protrudes through his sewn lips ? " " No ", says Landon as he enters the room. " This one is too clean and well fed. " " His clothing denotes access to funds. " " Or funding. " From my Lady mother. " Has he been questioned ? " " Vigorously. "

" Let us see this would be assassin ", from father.

I am grateful this keep was built in modern times. A small carrying cage is all that is required to reach lower levels of the Keep. We step in and the box raises or lowers from a suspended chain attached to a great wheel that oxen work on a circular path. Much as my great aunts baskets to and fro the Aerie work. My Lady mother is heavy with child and I am surprised my Lord father allowed her to ride such a distance. She says she is onlly four and one half cycles but at it's present size she looks to be at least six.

It is a small space perhaps large enough to accommodate four grown men. Taking into account my mother's belly and my father's shoulders, Landon's then mine own it was a tight and uncomfortable descent. I can see by look on Laen's and Kurtys' faces as I peer up they are anxious of this separation.

At the lowest level of the keep our ride stops and we step out onto a stone floor. Our Jaelor, Merryn, who doesn't appear to be ferocious at all at first glance. He is tall but slender, his hands look to be of a minstrel or poet, his close cropped hair a deep auburn. His eyes though...His eyes are the grey of Valyrian Steel. A deep, murky grey. Your Graces' his says with a bow. This way please.

Down a hall and the last door on the left. He unlocks the door and drags a man in a clean shift his hair still wet from a dousing. " I cleaned him up a bit, I had thought their graces' may want to question him further and did not want their hands to be soiled. "

He limps and I see he is no longer in possession of his toenails, he holds his hands splayed wide to avoid their tips touching as they are also bereft of nails. His face is blackened and misshapen from bruising. My father tears the shift from him and inspects his body for markings. " He has no tattoos or markings that I have yet found, your Grace ", Merryn says. My father takes a step back and eyes the prisoner.

" Bring me shears and a razor ", father says suddenly, the man comes alive and jumps towards my Lady mother, my father slaps him back with a swift backhand to his face to send him bouncing off the wall behind.

My father removes his gauntlets and gloves and leans against the questioning block, he idly fingers a manacle at it's corner.

Shears, a razor and basin are brought to my Lord father. The man in question is strapped to a chair and gagged. My father clips his hair in clumps which fall silently to the floor. He runs his hands roughly about his head until he finds what he seeks. With a razor he carefully shaves the hair from a spot on the back of his skull about three inches above his hair line. As all bend in for a closer look, we see a branding.

It is in the shape of a fist, from which flames dance upon the knuckles, the fist is tattooed in red.

My mother's eyes widen. She stands up abruptly and looks to my Lord father. " Wife, did I not tell you to kill them all ", he says quietly.

My mother purses her lips, goes to my father who envelopes her in the sanctuary that is his arms. Her head nestled against his chest.

Landon, Merryn and I look at each other and know not the meaning of this. All our heads turn to my parents.

" That is the mark of an Assassin of the red witch, Melissandre ", says my father. " The fist marks him of his trade. " " One finger is the mark of her personal guard, two of her acolytes, three of her court and an open hand afire that of a follower. "

" Melissandre is the one that bewitched Stannis Baretheon was she not ? " I ask. " Tis true ", acknowledges my father. " She also attempted to supplant the Old God's and the Seven with her red god of fire, R'hllor. " " She was just as any other greed driven maniac hiding under the guise of godliness ", spat my father. " She wanted power, by the God's and didn't much care how she came by it. " Added my mother. " I remember Lord Seaworth saying he beheld with his own eyes an abomination she spat forth from her womb a thing of inky blackness and only roughly formed as mannish. " " Was not long after Lord Renly was murdered by an unknown blackness before the eyes of Lady Brienne. " " For which she was wrongly accused. " I add. " Yes , she even attempted to seduce your Lord father. "

My eyes open wide as do Landon's and Merryn's. " Father ?! " " It is true and she got a broken jaw for her troubles. " " She was nothing but a sleight of hand entertainer who beguiled a weak man into believing she had real power. " " So why is she now a threat ? "

" No matter the rule or ruler you will always have those the are dissatisfied with their lot ", says father. " They curse the skies for lack of rain for their crops, then curse yet again if it is too much. " " Curse the price of grain, that their neighbor has more, that their wives are ugly and children lazy ", " For some there is no pleasing them ", my father utters as he shakes his head.

" So it appears that she has gained some followers once more and ones with coin it seems. " " Father, mother what do you wish us to do ? " I will inform the Southern Queen, Lord Davos, Suozahn and all house heads " " I will seek out this threat from Halcion's back ", says my father in a voice full of menace and death. " " You will first attend your Queen and wife ", from my mother who scrunches slightly a small grimace of pain marring her features. " What, NOW ?! " From father. A nod is all mother is capable of. Father scoops her into his arms and makes for the lifting cage, I send Laen with them taking Kurtys with us when the lift descends to retrieve us.

Once the ground level is attained we rush to the guest apartments of my parents. Maester Tamm rises from a small bench at the foot of the bed, at sheet covering my Lady mother from waist to toes.

" Well, how goes it ", says my father, sliding in behind my mother to rest her form against him. " The womb is intact your Grace, she needs not to be riding about the countryside on a dragon's back nor being shocked or jostled in any way, your Grace. "

" Well how am I to get back to Winterfell and my seat ? " " Your Grace, it is my opinion that you should wait out the remainder of your time here. "

Sandor looks to me. His dark eyes meet mine and says, " Landon, Winterfell cannot be left untended for months, I would ask that you go there and sit Winterfell's seat until such time as the Queen and I can return or Daenerys can be asked to join you. " Landon's mouth hangs slack for a moment and he regains himself. " As you command your Grace. " He walks briskly out the door issuing orders of what and whom to take.

" I am sorry daughter to part you from your husband. " My father comes to me and hugs me. " I understand father, the needs of the North and the many shall ever outweigh the needs of the one or the few. " I look to my mother and her eyes leak tears. We both go to her and offer what comfort we can. I rise to give them their privacy and close the door to hear my father say, " I will not be parted from you in this time of your big belly, my wife. "

Once the door closes however..." Husband are you sure it is just to separate them so soon after taking their own seat ? " " There may come a time that they are apart, I would know that they both can rule, if Anjelae loses Landon or Landon loses Anjelae we need to know he will be a just Prince Regent. " " They are coming into a vast kingdom that has been soemwhat tamed, they have not the obstacles we once faced in rebuilding a Land after years of war, disease, famine and them that came with the Others.

" Besides, I like it not that you are with child riding as if you were not. " " Your belly is the size of the you of seven cycles instead of the four and a half that you are ! "

" Are you calling me fat ? " Sandor looks to me and says, " No my wife you are pregnant, not fat ! " I smile to him and tell him I was only prodding him with a jest, He gives me a smile and small kiss and says be cautious of speaking of prodding lest I get a poke myself. I give him a tickle about his chin and say, " Nay husband it was you poking me that got me in this condition to begin with ", says I with a wink.

With that he lowers his lips to my belly and speaks to our child to have my belly jiggle and shake as my husband and child have their own talk. I run my fingers through his hair and and remember our time across the sea and getting to know Suozahn...


	34. Chapter 34 The North Across the Sea

In the practice yard we run through our drills of edged weapons. Dany is lethal with short sword and at throwing daggers. Suozahn excells at bow and short sword. I myself good at spear, sword and dagger. As all three of us are in mock battles with the eunuchs we see not as Tyrion, Ser Barriston and my husband look on. We have yet to best our drill mates in practice but we give almost as good as we get. As the bell chimes announcing the evening meal we break from our combat.

We see our audience and go to them sweat stained and bedraggled. Sandor hugs me to him and places a kiss on my upturned face.  
" I see you have improved in keeping your left arm up, even though you tire, wife." " Yes, Arry brought that to my attention ", says I.

Ser Barriston had this to say, " You are improving much, women, however we next will add more to the yard on the morrow. " " It is one thing to combat a single foe, another to fight two and yet another to win against such odds. " " We also will add combatants that will not attack you but will simulate the sights and sounds of battle ", he says cryptically. I notice out of the corner of my eye that Suozahn fairly beamed with pride of being included as one of the, " Women ."

Syrio joins us as we walk to our rooms to clean up and change for mealtime.

" Have you asked Suozahn about her time in King's Landing before being shipped off across the sea ? " I say I have not, I didn't want her to relive the horrors she was subjected to, I think. " You need to, at mealtime I will ask her to tell you what she told me. " With that he takes his leave of us.

As I am changing my clothes into something less restrictive as armor and much cooler I ask Sandor if he has spoken with her.

" I didn't want to traumatize her anymore, I am big and ugly and didn't wish to frighten her, I think it best if you speak with her, wife. "  
I go to Sandor and say, " True you are very big, ( as my eye wanders to his groin ), but you are honorable, strong, brave, a good husband and father and are handsome to my eye. " With that we walk to the table.

All are there as we are the last to arrive. Suozahn's usual seat across from us is empty and she sits our side of the table in between Sandor and my seats. We each take our seats, one on either side.

She starts abruptly with, " I was brought before the Whore and she grabbed my face turning it to and fro peering at me. " She said to the skinny man, " She has the eyes of that she~wolf bitch ! " " I want her and every female child rounded up from the North, I want them sent across the sea to do with as you please." " I have every intention of killing every Northman I can and sending some of our Southern men to breed the North from the women that remain. " " Make it known to the soldiers, the North's women are free for the taking, I want every Northern bitch heavy with a Southern child ! " The skinny man said, " Yes, your Grace."

" This skinny man, what did he look like ? "

" He was little, skinny, close cropped brown hair and a small mustache, dressed nice, and had a small bird pinned to his clothes.

"A small bird on on a branch ? "

" Yes, like this. "

She produces a drawing and hands it to me. It is the mockingbird pin worn by Petyr Baelish.." Lord ", Baelish.. I muse. I hand the drawing to Sandor. He passes it off the Ser Barriston, it makes the rounds to all persons at the table.

" My Lord father sentenced Jorah Mormont to death was slavery, when I regain Winterfell so shall I pass sentence on him. "

Tyrion clears his throat and says, " He was acting on the edict of his Queen, you may not be able to I am sorry to say, however, you may be able to use a charge of Treason against him for his betrayal of your father as he was the King's Hand and as his actions ultimately led to Lord Starks death, also murder. " " He is responsible for the deaths of more of my family than my Lord father ", I say in a brittle voice of one lost and torn from all I have known.

Suozahn pats my hand softly and I offer her a smile that is not in my eyes.

The Silver Queen looks to me and says, " Your Lord father sentenced him to death for slave trade ? " " Yes, slavery is disallowed in the North. " " So he is a criminal as well as a spy and liar. " " And nor is he a good slave says Tyrion ", once again peering from the rim of his cup.

" He is thus branded as Clegane, all fighters and guards are. " " Where is he now ? " " I know not, last I saw of him was when the eunuch's brought Penny and I here. " " He was taken elsewhere. "

Dany looks and motions for one of her eunuchs to come to her and speaks softly in his ear. He responds with words of his own. She has a set to her jaw I have never seen. She speaks once more to the eunuch and with a bow he makes a haste on his retreat to parts unknown. Another comes to take his place silently.

Dany speaks next. " We have found many from the North in the pleasure houses. " " All are being housed in the city, Sansa, it your duty to offer them comfort, all will know your name if not your face my friend. " " I will see to it . "

After mealtime is over I go back to our rooms to armor myself. I reach for my sword. " Not that one ". says Sandor, " This one. "

He hands me a silk wrapped sword in it's scabbard, I grasp the leather bound grip and draw it slowly out. It is of Valryian Steel..It has the grey luster it is known for, it is lighter than regular steel and though it is longer than my short sword it is lighter still . On the crossguard is the image of the Stark Direwolf on the reverse Sandor's snarling hound's helmet. The quillons I see are shaped as a hounds tooth coming to a point. The fuller runs two thirds of the swords length. It narrows to a wicked point meant to sever flesh and hew bone The grip is narrow, built for my hand and wrapped in black leather, the pommel bears the head of a small bird at rest, it's eyes bits of yellow citrine. " It is called a ba..." " A bastard sword ! " " I love it ! " " If only my father could see me now."

" Because you have learned and been training for months with a sword of regular, heavier steel, this you will wield easily, Little Bird. "

I think to myself how a short time ago I thought a flower given or sweet words were the true gift of love. Time and experience has taught me gifts of a practical nature are better, much, much better.

I rush to him, careful with the sword and smile brightly at him. He bends to give me a kiss upon the tip of my nose and asks me if I am ready, " Almost ", I say as I rifle through my trunk of clothing items. I find that which I sought, a bit of silk, of a vivid yellow and wrap it about my throat atop my gorget, my hauberk jingles slightly, I look at myself in the looking glass, I don't recognize me at times. My eyes still the blue of a summers sky, ( as Sandor puts it ), my coppery locks running down my back in a braid, In my Gorget, pauldron, shoulder cops and vambraces I look to be much bigger especially with my breast and back cuirass made to fit my form with the Stark Direwolf etched onto the front. A light, Stark grey cloak of dyed linen completes my look.

I strap on the sword and am grateful for my long legs, a few more inches shorter and the tip would drag in the dirt. Sandor asks me if I am now ready to meet these children and I nod my head yes. He grasps my shoulders and says, " Remember who you are. "

I spin to head out of the rooms and clip Sandor's knee with my scabbard's tip, " You must have a care my wife, how you move as you now have a swords tip to consider. "

We ride our horses past the market, all part before us. I have not only Sandor and Syrio in their guises of personal guards but Dany sent a squad of one hundred of her Unsullied as well. Sandor told me of them that are named Unsullied. My stomach churned at how they are created.

We gain the former slave market to find at least two thousand people, not just children, old women and injured men. Ser Barriston strides up to us and offers a quick bow (?) " My Lady they are all of the North, one man swears he was a baker in Winterfell, most of the men were injured or maimed, more will arrive, the word has spread not only of Daenery's but the a She~Wolf is here and will lead her people back to the North. " I look to Sandor who's eyes do not move to me. I return Ser Barriston's gaze and nod my head and say, " Lead the way Ser. "

Word is spreading like fire to kindling and those that are able rise do so others move to crane their necks in my direction. One man comes and bows and says, " My Lady, tis true, tis true you are here! " " You are Maark, the baker I say with a smile. " He turns to the crowd and yells, " She's here, she's here ! " A press of bodies like a wall of blood and sinew head our way. The Unsullied close ranks spear points outward. Sandor shoves me behind him, Bane drawn, Syrio at my back. I struggle and brush past them both and outside of the Unsullied to face the mob. They stop short and I walk to them, they bow, cry, some are holding others who are hurt. One even made a Sigil out of a torn piece of canvas with the Stark Direwolf and waved it about proudly.

" What do we do Ser ? " " It would appear you have followers ", not in the best of shape but I know now my folly of thinking women cannot be effective with weapons. "

As we speak a man uninjured approaches me, the smile on his face does not reach his eyes. I ease my dagger out because he makes me...Uneasy. He uses a tall stick to walk but I can detect no limp. He is close now maybe the length of a man away. Ser Barriston also has an eye to him and draws his sword, snake quick the man flips his walking stick up to reveal a small steel tip and attempts jab me in the face. As he launches another attempt his head snaps back and an arrow now protrudes from a jagged hole of his eye socket. He totters and falls boneless to the ground on his back.

Sandor gains my side and I see it is all he has in him to refrain from scooping me up in his arms. Suozahn's small form comes to me as well a smile on her face that dances in her eyes. She has a small bow in her hands and more arrows in her quiver with fletchings matching that of my would be assassin's. I pull her to me and hug my savior. I look to Sandor and I see he is furious, at me, for leaving the protection of him, Syrio and the Unsullied. I know what I will face behind closed doors and cringe inwardly...


	35. Chapter 35 A Gathering Storm

** There is much going on in this chapter and years and miles to span in it**

After getting the names of our refugees and tending the wounded, getting them settled took up a good part of the evening. Sandor was never further than one of his long arms reach from me. I could feel the waves of anger rolling from him subside over the hours. The amount of pain and suffering inflicted on these people, MY people, angered me. I promised myself there would be a reckoning.

The Silver Queen came and also helped to ease their suffering bringing food stuffs and clothing and her beautiful smile. Then she did something that secured her place in my heart and of everyone else.

" I am Daenreys, Storm Born, Queen of Quarth, this is the Queen of the North,_ your_ Queen, Sansa Stark~Clegane." " We intend to rid Westeros of the wrong from which it suffers and we will do this with your help, it is time for the people to rise up and fight ! " To rousing cheers.

Ser Barriston did not lie when he said our training would intensify. The very next morning I was roused from bed by Sandor, after only a few hours sleep and when I complained bitterly he replied, " War has no schedule, you lose sleep along with blood. " " If you would be a Queen and lead men and women to victory, _YOU_ must set the example. " " My cheeks colored at the shame his words caused but he was right, I am the only one who can do this, with help from good friends, my people but especially my Lord and husband.

And Ser Barriston's estimation was correct, they came, not by the dozens or even hundreds, thousands flooded the streets of Quarth from the North, all investigated by Syrio, Ser Barriston or my Lord husband. A few were false and faced a harsh punishment. The first of which included the animal responsible for hurting small Suozahn, all attended his execution, he and the traitors and spies were placed on spikes of wood while still alive, they were shoved up their backsides and their own weight pushed the wood further within. Let this be a warning to thieves of innocence and traitors alike as their remains stayed where they were impaled outside the city walls.

Suozahn's eyes watched as the man writhed and tried to scream, but his cries were muffled by the cock shoved in his mouth, his part was pickled to preserve it for just this time. She turned around walked back to the city, Sandor and I, bookends to her small form.

Our training yard is full with sounds of battle. Even the small ones are trained in basic defense with halved quarter staffs. Dany, Suozahn and I are drilling with multiple attackers, and unfamiliar weapons. Pikes, long axes, war hammers both Sers contending we may have to use what is available if our weapons fail or we are momentarily disarmed.

The desert tribes have a weapon made of leather that they spin over their heads to fling stones at great speed and with remarkable accuracy. This weapon is added to the small ones inventory.

I notice I am getting stronger, my endurance is up, I am mounting better defenses as I become more familiar with the art of war. Our dragon's are growing and were introduced to Drogon, who nosed and huffed upon them and became disinterested soon after.

My baby fat is replaced by lean muscle, my long legs are well defined and my backside firm. My arms are strong and my belly flat I am disappointed that I have acquired a few matrons marks, if Sandor has noticed them he has said nothing.

Tyrion has designed a chair for Ned so he may sit with us during meals. The kitchen mistress has taken to mashing vegetables and fruits so Ned may have something besides my breasts to feed on. He is strong with his father's dark hair and it is unruly at time as it starts from his head like a field of black wheat. He is still a happy baby and he reaches for Sandor or I. He has a temper as well when he doesn't get his way.

Dany estimates that in another month we will be able to ride our dragons. Tyrion has settled on a final design for his saddle. They blow flame and are capable of feeding themselves. They are fed regularly but still take livestock upon occasion. Danny told me of a time before our coming to Quarth of a man who had incurred massive gambling debts and knowing full well that she would pay for livestock damages happened upon the idea of killing his young wife for an even greater payment. When he brought the remains he could not explain why her skull was so badly damaged, both Balerus and Ser Barriston said that was a killing blow most likely from a maul or mallet. His punishment was unique.

He was nailed to two pieces of wood, shaped as a T, at his wrists and ankles. A small cut was made at his belly and his living bowel protruded, it coiled at his feet like so much rope. Flies swarmed him and lay their eggs but it was the ants that was his undoing, they crawled about and in him to eat at his living tissue. His screams rang off the great walls of Quarth for almost a day. I think it is fitting for a killer who's duty it was to protect his victim. The carrion crows ate of him and the vultures as well.

At evening meal Souzahn is in her new usual spot between Sandor and I. She has expressed an interest in learning the various Sigils of the many houses, both great and small of Westeros. She also devours the histories of the North. She was doodling at the table when Sandor and I took our seats. She has drawn a Sigil. It is of the Stark Direwolf and from memory of the Hounds forst visit to Winterfell his great helm. She has reversed the colors of our banners however to have the Direwolf on a field of yellow and the helm on a grey field.

I look at it with interest. Sandor ruffles her hair and says that is a fine Sigil to which she replies, " It is the untied crest of the Queen and the North. I decide that when I retake the North that this indeed will be flown with pride. This pleases the young woman to no end.

When we retire to our rooms and put Ned down for the evening my husband takes me in his arms and loves me slowly and tenderly. Starting with sweet kisses on my face. My hunger for him is ever present in my mind regardless of what I am doing. Learning warfare has emboldened me. I want him, now.

I ease him onto his back and I kiss him, exploring the space of his mouth with my tongue, I lick and bite his neck, his hairy belly, it is my turn to bite his hip bones and spread his legs. I lick and suck his engorged member, teasing him, making his already stiff cock dance with every touch. It is his turn to roll his hips and buck.

I straddle him and ease onto the large head of his cock and slide onto his girth, My nipples hard points of pink that he pinches, rolls, pulls and flicks. I set the rhythm of our love making. I squeeze him and he bucks. I grind into all that is him and quicken my pace. He matches my riding him with raised hips and thrusts. I like this feeling of control and power, he has always reminded me of something untamed. I feel my come approach on hot hooves of lust. When I gain the warm wet apex of our joining he grabs my hips and pushes further into me. The spasms of my insides milking every drop of his seed.

You always surprise me, Little Bird, always. I decide I like that much to hear him say it. I lay on his hair covered chest, taking in his scent. Snuggled safely in his arms he strokes my hair and trails fingers down my side and says, " That is a first for me my wife, never has a woman ridden me thus. " I raise my head to look at him. His large eyes meet mine. I stroke his cheek and it wounds me that no one has ever sought this man for anything but his ferocity. I run my fingers through the hair on his chest and belly and surrender to sleep...

I awake long miles and years from Quarth, not in Winterfell but Frosthaven, the seat of my daughter. I am secretly glad I will not fly until after the birth of our baby. Flying just that short time ailed my back and the child liked it not. He bounced and spun from the time we gained the skies until we landed.

I think this will be a hard delivery and a very, very big child. I rub my big belly and speak softly to my child. He flutters and I watch my belly change shape as he goes to the touch of my hand with his head. ( His _BIG_ head no doubt )

Anjelae takes to leadership quite well, she is fair minded and the people begin to love their Princess and future Queen.

Landon is doing well and Dany has informed us she will be there to assist in another months time.

I have no doubt when it comes time for them to rule they will do so with justice and honor.

Sandor has been making quiet inquiries in regards to the Red Witch, Melissandre. Whispered rumors for the most part. However the GreatJon has sent ravens in regards to swathes of land blackened and burnt. Seeing a glow in the night sky of a fire of some size. Following it to it's source to find the charred remains of people burned in a fire so hot their bones turn to fine ash at the merest touch.

Only dragon fire can account for such heat but all ours are accounted for. Suozahn has taken to night flights on her lands watching and waiting. The North is holding it's breath it seems, waiting for our foe to show it's face. So we may know our enemy and adjust our defenses accordingly.

We received a raven from Ned and his Sansa, they tell us the joyous news of another Clegane pup that will be born into our House. We hear also that our Cat wishes to go to Queen's Landing. Sandor and I discussed this at length. He is not for this. He wants not his child wedded to Jaime's son. Nor does he approve of any of his offspring being so far from home that has not a dragon.

Our sweet forever child Jon is taken with Casterly Rock, his sweet ways have charmed all those in the Keep and he is well looked after. He is also quite excited to soon be an uncle though I am unsure if he realizes what an uncle is. Sansa is good to him and shows the patience he sometimes requires. She is quite pleased to have a permanent minstrel.

Sandor beams with pride in describing Anjelae's judgment on this matter or that. It is good to see him happy. Though I see he looks at me with concern more oft then not. Ever gentle with me and lovingly of my belly and the contents therein.

As the days turn to weeks and and my belly is now the size of me at full term, yet I believe myself to be no more than seven and one half months. Six weeks and we meet this big boy I carry. I feel it must be a boy by the sheer size of my belly alone. That is the exact thought in my mind when I feel a familiar pain seize my middle.

I call out for my Lady in waiting, a young noble woman named Sh'Nya, a daughter of Lord Shagga's and tell her to go with haste and find Maester Tamm and my Lord husband.

" She is..Is... The child is too big to be birthed ", he finishes in a rush. " The babe must be cut from her or we will surely lose them both. " My father raises his eyes to meet those of the Maester's. " Do you know what it is you do ? " " In theory, yes. " My father motions me to take his place behind my mother. He strides over to Maester Tamm and looms over him. " Explain to me what, " In theory ", means ", his voice low and dangerous.

" A man from yonder village, Frostcare, has been summoned here, he is more of a specialist in this manner of birthing, your Grace " " What does this man look like ? " " You cannot miss him your Grace, he is large like yourself with a shock of red hair kept in a single braid that reaches nearly to his waist, a big bushy beard, his wife and assistant travels with him and they wear the plaid of them that dwell in the crags. " " His name ? " " Angys M'kaan his wife is Dae'Joy. " To the Maester's assistant he instructs that Halcion be called.

" I will return shortly, my wife ", he says quickly and plants a sweet kiss on my mother's brow. " She nods and gives a weak smile. "

I gain Halcion's back and we are off, we veer to the East and the crags of the Uplands. I reign Halcion to fly lower and in the distance I see an ox cart, Halcion lands wings spread to the wide eyes of the man and woman sitting the carts seat. I leap to the ground and in ten long strides I hail the driver of the cart. " Are you Angys M'Kann ? " " I am he. " " My Lady wife is in need of your services, I would make haste and carry you and your wife to Frosthaven. " " Have you someone to drive your cart ? " A large red haired head peeps from behind the parents as well as another, and another still. " We have your Grace. " He gathers what he needs in a small bundle and helps his tiny wife from the cart. I suggest she be placed between us, her hanging onto me, him hanging on to her. We take off in two beats of Halcion's wings and gain altitude and make for Frosthaven.

As we land in the courtyard I reach for Angys' bundle as he steps gingerly down, then helping his wife once more to gain the ground.

As we walk quickly to my Lady wife I ask him how it comes to be he knows how to do this. He looks on his wife and says, " I near lost sweet Dae'Joy at the birth of our first. " " One of the midwives was familiar with the birthing of livestock and had birthed big cows and horses. " " As my Dae'Joy lay in agony she said she could cut the baby out and it would most like survive. " My wife begged her to do so and she did. " " Since that time I meself have birthed larger than normal calves and foals in this manner. " " After watching the midwife cut me wife another time I took it upon meself to do it. " " How many times have you done this ? " " I have delivered our last five sons ",  
says he with a broad smile.

My Lord father bursts through the door with two strangers in tow. One a huge man of red hair and a tiny dark woman. He gains the bed and bows and says, " I am sorry to meet you under this condition your Grace, have no fear, though this will cause you pain it will be over shortly. " My mother gives him one of her room lighting smiles as my father regains his place behind her.

He pushes the sheet off my mother's big belly and gently squeezes it. He looks to my parents and says, " Your Graces', there is _more_ than one in there. "


	36. Chapter 36 From Blood and Pain

He says more than one...It would explain why I am so big. The pains seize me once more. The big red haired man washes his hands and his wife, small, with dark hair and eyes gently washes my belly. Sandor is behind me supporting my back. The dark woman offers me a bit of twisted leather and places it between my teeth. It has a bitter taste that lulls me into a sense of calm. I feel disjointed and floating.

My legs are placed together. Anjelae holds them firmly, sweet Sandor holds my shoulders as well.

The red haired man says, " Your Grace, it is important _you are still_, my hand is steady but thrashing could cause the cut to stray and hurt either you or the children. "

Children, I have more than one I reflect in my floating state. I watch him lower a small bright knife to my belly and lose sight of it once he nears the underside of it. Another pain seizes my form and with a flick I am opened and quick I feel a tugging and hear a squall from a new Clegane. The child is passed of to his wife who passes it to an another for cleaning. Another tug and I hear another cry of a healthy child.

The wife removes the leather from my slack mouth, I feel sleepy and want badly to drowse and curse myself for this state, I am giving birth ! The least I can do is remain _awake_ and _aware_ for it ! It is my last thought as a wicked sleep takes me.

I awake groggy with a thick, dry tongue. I try to move and I am frozen in place by a searing pain on my lower belly. I feel fingers like iron about my shoulders and my daughters voice say gently, " Peace mother, father will be sent for. "

Sent for ? Why is he not here with me now ?! I think bitterly to myself.

In a few minutes I hear the sound of someone running shod in boots come up the stairs. He bursts into the room with a look of the wild in his eye. He stops short of the bed and eases his bulk onto it gingerly and takes my hand to place kisses upon it, his eyes are misty as he strokes my face gently.

" I thought you were lost to me, my wife. " " I have had our children cut from me, I was tired and sleeping, no where near dead, husband. "

" Sleeping for three days, mother ", from Anjelae.

" Three days ?! " I say with some alarm. " Yes, father left your side only to relieve himself and eat, one of us has always been here. As we speak Suozahn is returning from Winterfell with Catey and son Sandor, the Southern Queen also journeys here with Ned. "

" Where are my babies ? "

The first they bring me is a big healthy boy. He is the size of Ned at two months. He has a mass of coppery hair and is sleeping swaddled in his blanket. " I would name him Barriston ", and say so to Sandor who smiles and nods. The next child brought to me is a small girl, she has my Sandor's dark locks with a reddish cast and a sweet face and I look to Sandor and he says, " Daenerys. "

I am still very tired and want to go back to sleep, it is not to be as I wish to feed my babies and do so. The in comes Maeri with a tray of food stuffs. My stomach does feel hollow so I stay awake for a short time to eat. Sleep threatens to take me as I start to drowse, the tray is removed and all but Sandor leaves. He brushes the hair from my eyes and kisses my softly. I hear him disrobe and feel him slide into bed beside me. I want to roll to him but my belly is still painful. He scoots near me and places a hand on my shoulder. That is my last thought as sleep takes me.

I awake in the morn to the cry of my babies. I rise up slowly on my elbows and push down the covers to inspect my cut. It is still very tender but I notice with relief the stitches are small and neat. Sandor rises to collect the babies but before he does so he piles pillows behind my back to help support me. He dresses and says he will soon return.

I look at Barriston. He is well formed and large. A gentle knock on the door and Anjelae enters with two people who are vaguely familiar. I learn they are Angys and his wife and assistant Dae'Joy. I thank them and say also I owe you our lives. They both blush deeply. I ask him what he does and he says, " I'm a Shepard your grace. "

" You have a way with babies, the Maester of this Keep knew not what to do yet you did. " " I would have someone in every village know this method of child birth. " " I would like if you could go to the people and teach this. " " As you wish your Grace ", says he with wide eyes. His wife gives him a reassuring squeeze of his arm.

Sandor returns with Maerii in tow with another tray of foods.

" Your Grace, I would see the stitches if I may ", from Dae'Joy. I push down the covers once more, her touches are gently and self assured and practiced. " You heal well ", she announces with a broad smile. " You must not lift anything for two cycles of the moon, your Grace. " " You may have relations with your husband in one cycle ", she says with a blush. " But he must not lay...Atop you. "

" That is good to know ", and I wink and smile.

Sandor presents them coin for services rendered. He also informs them they are to be given five horse. Four mounts and one pack, all fleet of hoof to better expedite him getting to people in need. Sandor then hands him a wooden box. Angys opens it to find a blade. Ornate of grip and cross guard. Very sharp and the light glints off it's blade. It is given to those who perform feats of heroism or in thanks to those who perform a great service. On one side is the Stark Direwolf on the reverse Sandor's great helm.

" Thank you, your Graces', you honor us so ", they both say with wide eyes.

I am pleased I have given birth to not only one but two more Cleganes. Sandor eases onto the bed and cups my face in his hands. I shed tears of joy to know I have survived and brought my husband more children. He brushes the tears from my cheeks with his thumbs and places tender kisses on my face, so soft, like the kiss of a baby's breath.

He rises and goes to the dressing table and retrieves a brush. With slow measured strokes does he brush the tangles from my hair. It is a guilty pleasure we both enjoy. We have some of our most meaningful discussions as he does this. I can remember a time years ago one of our talks about how best to serve the needs of the people and Land of Westeros...

There is no ache in my muscles anymore after each days practice. I defend and attack with multiple weapons as if it is second nature to me. I now most times can judge correctly what an opponent will do by watching his or her body language and eyes.

I am in the practice yard now with Dany and Suozahn. My opponent this day is a pale man with milky blue eyes, the shade of a blue pennant left long in the sun. His hair is an inky black and cropped close to his skull, his skin a pale as mine own. His eyes show me nothing as he attacks with a spear, it's point not the bright silver of worked metal but a murky grey.

He slashes, I parry, he jabs and I again deflect his spear point. It glances off my sword and nicks the shoulder of one close behind me, locked in a mock battle of his own. He stiffens and sinks to the ground slowly to lay boneless for a moment. Then a fit seizes him and thrashes about like a fish out of water. His mouth foams and clots of it fling about as he thrashes to and fro.

Before I can think I lash out and cleave my opponents head from his shoulders in one swift motion. A look of surprise seems to dance on his face as his shorn head tumbles from his body and hits the dirt of the yard before rolling to a stop. His eyes still open and seeming to throw an accusatory glance towards me even in death.

I bend to wipe the spittle from my boot and I am seized by the strong arms of Balerus who shakes his head and says, " Do _NOT_ touch it ! " , " Your Grace we know not what type of poison it is. "

The man nicked by the spear arches his back at what seems to be an impossible arch until his spine emits a loud crack of sound. His legs remain motionless except for the thrashing of his arms that cause them to twitch and shake, his face contorts into a mask pain and his eyes bulge and he sheds tears of blood form his eyes, nose, mouth and ears. There is an unmistakable stench of his bowels that are loosed in his death throes.

I hear the familiar steps of Sandor as he gains my side. Tyrion, Ser Barriston and our new Maester an aged man bent by time and worry named Lowrenn also approach.

Lorwrenn bends to the first dead man and produces a pair of thin leather gloves and tongs. From another pocket of his grey robe a small glass vial and a flat piece of wood. He scoops some of the foam with the wood and smears its contents into the vial. With the tongs he pulls on the mans lower lip and opens his mouth to peer inside. He turns the dead man's head to the side and a bright red foam issues forth along with gout's of congealed blood.

He instructs the spear be taken carefully to his work room. He goes to the man whom I beheaded and strips him of his clothes. He investigates him thoroughly before he peers at his head. He uses his tongs to pull on his lips and turn it about. His bushy eyebrows creep up his forehead as he finds something of note...


	37. Chapter 37 The Red Witch

** This chapter is dedicated to _Wilko Johnson_, the man portraying _Ser Ilyn Payne_. Mr. Wilko is gravely ill & if you enjoy his performance in HBO's Game of Thrones or his music, stop by his Facebook page & tell him so. It's under his own name**

Maester Lorwrenn brushes a gloved finger at the base of the severed head and turns to us and says, " Look here ", says Maester Lorwrenn. All heads peer to where he points at the back of the head.

We see something through the hair. It is a tattoo of some sort. The Maester produces a small blade and carefully shaves the hair concealing the mark. We see a small tattoo in red ink of a fist with flames dancing on the knuckles.

" This is the mark of a servant of a high priest or priestess for the red god R'hllor. "

" A hand closed into a fist marks him as an assassin in the red god's service ", says the Maester.

" There is a woman who has seduced Stannis Baratheon into believing his claim is just for the Iron Throne, she is a priestess of this religion. "

" They call her, " the Red Witch ", but she is also known by the name, Melissandre. "

" Make no mistake, she be a woman but one bred and born to destruction and chaos and a hole within her seeking power that can never be filled ", says Maester Lorwrenn.

" Her god be a dark and hungry one and I believe it is her vile self and the evil she would bring that has awakened the Others. "

" Then let us turn the flame she worships against her and reduce her to ash ", says Dany with a voice laced with venom.

I look to Sandor his usually warm eyes now dark and flat as death itself. He pulls me into my one safe place that his strong arms provide. I lay my head on his chest, my gloved fingers curled into the mesh of his chain mail and pull him into me. I wonder if the shaky feeling I'm experiencing is evident in my stance. He places a gentle kiss atop my head.

The bell for small arms practice rings singling the end of it and the beginning of Rider's training to commence.

Maester Lorwrenn announces he wishes to make a study of the blade and poison and will bring all that he learns to our attention on the morrow.

We shamble in the direction of the Horn of Calling on the wide terrace. Sandor and my fingers interlaced as we walk hand in hand to our mounts who await us, they too eager for their daily practice flights.

My Summer is a beauty, the yellow of her scales amplified by the bright ball of light in the sky that is the merciless sun of Quarth. With every move of her sinuous neck the light plays and dances upon her scales. Tyrion's mount is a vivid emerald green, Sandor's Halcion is perched next to Drogon the big black dragon of Dany's.

A Dothraki man carries the saddle Tyrion has designed. His mount Wrath is already accustomed to it having worn it for near a weeks time, as all our mounts have. The dragons are now saddled, Drogon included after much debate between Ser Barriston and Dany. The merits of which Ser Barriston pointed out were not falling hundreds of feet to land with certain death. Today is the day we ride. It had been decided that that we each would ride one at a time with our dragon in the skies with Dany and her mount.

Ser Barriston and his silvery grey dragon, Vengeance take to the sky behind Drogon. They gain a height then practice banks, dives blowing flame and rolls. After a time they return to the terrace. Ser Barriston has the giddy look of a child with a new favorite toy when they land.

I am next and take to the air with Summer and I am... Free. The wind whips my hair back like a living flame in it's braid. I can see almost to Westeros it seems as we ascend to great heights only to plummet at swift speeds to almost touch the waters of the sea. I am saddened when it is time to return to the terrace and my heart races to the rhythm of the new freedom of flight.

We all take our turns and each rider returns with a broad smile and wide eyes, even my Sandor.

At meal time that evening we all speak of our experiences on the back of our mounts. Dany eyes Suozahn and nods to an Unsullied who approaches with a silk wrapped object. She rises and comes up to Suozahn and hands her the package.

She opens it to reveal an egg. It is a dark tan. Suozahn's eyes grow to the size of hen's eggs and she leaps up to grasp Dany in a fierce embrace. Tears stream down her face as she sits and strokes the eggs scales.

It is decided between the group that we will go to the Iron Bank of Braavos in a months time. It is also decided that Ser Barriston and Syrio will stay here and mind Quarth in Dany's absence.

As Sandor and I return to our rooms that evening and we both remove our armor. He follows me into the privy room and into the washing area. At a pull of a lever water runs through a section of the ceiling and pours out of small holes in it. It comes down like a rain shower and the cool of it is refreshing and draws my nipples up to hard points.

Sandor bends down to take one in his mouth and rolls his tongue over it, his fingers explore my opening and delve it's depths eliciting a sharp intake of breath from me. Have I told you how wonderful it is that he is big and strong ? I hop up and he cradles my backside in his hands as I wrap my long legs round his waist.

He guides his stiff cock within me and puts my back to the marble wall and begins to plumb the deepest part of me. I have a hand under his chin and pull his face towards mine and lock his mouth to mine in a lasting kiss. His breathing changes as does mine I know we will end this journey of wet want together and quickly my need for him like a great hunger searing me from inside out.

His kiss is eager, I suck on his tongue and run my tongue behind his teeth savoring his taste. The shadow of his whiskers rub red and raw my lips and face as he breaks our kiss to taste my chin, cheeks and throat. His thrusts pound into me and bring me to my come, as it explodes spreading heat from my parts outward and lights flash white hot behind my eyes.

my insides twitch and pulse, sucking his seed from him to me and it's wet reaches the innermost of my folds.

Our lovemaking and bathing done we dry ourselves and dress lightly and I walk to our terrace and look out to the sea. I know across it's expanse lies my home and the souls and lives of those peopling it are in jeopardy. Sandor eases up beside me and drapes an arm over my shoulders.

" We will return, Little Bird and right the wrongs of the Land. "

" I know, husband, I know but will there be a people left to save ? "

" Yes, Sansa and a Land to rebuild and children to raise. "

He leads me inside and sits me on a small bench in front of my looking glass. He picks up a brush and relaxes me by slow degrees with every stroke.

It always amazes me how such a large man who's strength and sometimes frightening temper can be so gentle. I think also on all the cruel jests and taunts I heard others speak, never of course in earshot of Sandor of his scarring and whoring ways and drunkenness.

" Why do you look at me so, wife ? "

" I am thinking of the beauty you really are, of your great and hidden heart. "

" Of your tenderness with me and Ned. "

" I love you, Sansa as I have since your first kindness to me. "

" I will love you and no other as long as I draw breath, Little Bird. "

" In the coming war will we win ? "

" We must ", is all he says between strokes of the brush.

" I love also the way you make me feel and how hard and deeply you love me ", as a grope for his manhood.

He gives me one of his crooked grins and slides a hand under my shift to awaken a nipple to attention. I slide to the floor and rest my elbows on the bench which I just sat and he kneels behind me and quickly has his cock out and guides it in me. With one hard thrust he breaches me and with a squeeze I wrap him in an internal embrace. There is no gentleness only hunger this time around. I buck and match his thrusts with ones of mine own, slamming into his thighs in a frantic, hot rhythm only lovers share. No slow build up only a hard come as my insides flutter and suck at his shaft, milking him.

Sated we both lay on the marble floor, the cool of it tempering the heat of moments before. I roll to be cradled in his embrace, listening to his mighty heart slow to it's normal resting beat.

I love him. I know this and have known it but it delights me nonetheless at every joining we share. It is then that we hear a light rap on the door.

We rise and adjust our clothing and Sandor opens the door to be greeted by Tyrion, Dan, Maester Lorwrenn and Ser Barriston.

" You have news it would seem by the looks on your face ", from Sandor.

" True and none of it good ", says Tyrion.

" And ", from Sandor.

" The priestess of R'hllor, Melissandre is being hailed as the Red Witch. "

" Rumors swirl about her like moths to flame. "

" They say she feeds her her god living flesh of unbelievers and as we speak Stannis marches on Winterfell to wrest it from that Bolton bastard. "

All eyes turn to me.

" Ramsey is not some inexperienced clod trying to prove himself. "

" He has the arms and men to hold the Keep and also the inclination. "

" You are not going to like this next bit of news, your Grace. "

My back is ramrod straight and my eyes meet that of Ser Barriston's, Sandor is close enough to me I can feel his heat.

" Jeyne Poole has been passed off as your sister Arya and has been wedded to the bastard Ramsey. "

" Thus securing succession of Winterfell when he produces an heir ", says I in a rush.

" Yes ", says Tyrion and Ser Barriston in concert.

" Will this madness never end ", I say in a hoarse whisper.

" It is a sickness of spirit and mind, Ramsey has always been a loose and wild spawn ", says Tyrion.

" His exploits are even spoken in whispers as far as King's Landing of his depraved behavior. "

" I regret also to inform you of Ser Rodrick's murder at the hands of the selfsame bastard. "

" Do you have any good news ? "

" I don't know if good is what I would call it. "

" You brother Jon on hearing Arya was being forced to wed and not knowing the true identity of your, " sister ", has enlisted the aid of the Northmen and none other than Mance Rayder also rides with them."

" Mance Rayder, who is Mance Rayder ? "

" Former Black Brother and referred to as , " King Beyond the Wall ", says Tyrion.

" Former, men join the black for life. "

" True, unless they are turncoats or traitors as is Mance ", from my husband.

" We are ready to set our plans in motion, once the loan at the Iron Bank is secured will we show part of our hand but not until then. "

" Has Lord Seaworth been apprised of our timing ? I ask.

" He has and already is calling ships to Quarth as well as sending some ", from Tyrion.

Sandor senses my shift in mood and closes the gap between us. He knows me well. Instead of the gentle touch as from our love making he grasps my shoulder in a hard grip and squeezes once.

The heat I felt a short while ago with my husband now returns only it a heat from my rising fury. I think to myself my revenge will know no bounds where it concerns Theon and _BOTH_ Bolton's _AND_ the Frey's _AND_ Little Finger _AND_ the Whore...


	38. Chapter 38 Wheels Within Wheels

*** I'd like to _thank_ all you that _review_ and send your _P.M.'s_, thanks for the effort on your part, it helps me be a better writer***( I hope, lol )

" We have other news from Westeros as well ", from Ser Barriston.

" It appears as though King's Landing waits not for our strike, as we speak they build boats to bring the attack to our shores. "

" When will they land ? " From Dany.

" As they are under construction I would say they will sail in no more than forty to forty~five days and will be here in seventy to seventy~five days days, less if they choose a direct route. "

" Would they be foolish enough to dare a direct route though, the squalls are notorious this time of year. "

" A seasoned captain would not put his ship or crew at risk. "

" We are not dealing with a seasoned ship master, we deal with the Whore and her wants. "

" We should meet them on the open sea with dragons ", I blurt out.

" Agreed, wait until they close into our shores and attack by cover of night. "

" No ", from Dany.

" Dragons are capable of maintaining flight for many days."

" I want them not so close to our shores, it is my preference they be at least three days from our shores. "

" Lord Seaworth will be sailing in that armada as well, his ships will fly his personal Sigil, of a black ship on a field of grey with an onion on it's sails.", says Ser Barriston.

" He is water wise and will hug the coast, it will take longer but the likelihood of his ships reaching our shores unscathed are high. "

Tyrion sat silently, an empty cup in his hand at the side of the silver Queen. Sandor broods his brows furrowed in thought. Ser Barriston and Syrio sit in quiet conversation perusing a map of the narrow sea. While I digest this latest bit of news.

Tyrion breaks the relative quiet, " We should go to the Iron Bank on the morrow. "

" I mislike this latest news. "

" Agreed ", from Dany.

" We must free the GreatJon and show the people the North has risen and hell comes with it. "

Sandor brushes my cheek with a gauntlet clad hand, his eyes intense upon mine, leans to kiss me softly with a crooked grin.

A rap at the door and Maester Lorwrenn enters his bushy brows pulled together, his heavily wrinkled face pulled into a frown.

" Yes, the GreatJon must be freed, however, notice the cool breeze that now whispers ? " From Maester Lorwrenn who continues,

" Behind it lies a storm of some size from the great desert waste and it would be imprudent to attempt a crossing of the sea even on a dragons back. "

" Look to the port and see how many ships still remain moored, seasoned captains know a storm brews and choose to remain in port rather then risk losing lives and wares. "

Sandor speaks, " What learned you of the poison used by my Lady wife's attacker ? "

" It is my belief it was a combination of two poison's , your Grace . "

Sandor scowls and tosses his gleaming head at, " Your Grace."

" One to afflict the blood and cause it to run as tears from all orifices and another to arrest the heart and very breath itself. "

" One derived from a plant, the other from fish. "

I look around the room and see every member deep in thought of the things to come. The storm that approaches will be nothing compared to what we will bring to wrest Westeros from the powers that now control it. It is my thought and hope that I take the lives of the Whore, the Frey's, the Bolton's, Theon turncoat, Little Finger, Melissandre and any other who threatens the North and our way of life.

Plans are altered, it is decided Dany, Tyrion and I will go to the Iron Bank and Syrio, Ser Barriston and Sandor will stay to mind Quarth. Sandor of course had something to say on that matter and in no uncertain terms. He draws breath to give voice when Tyrion interrupts his thoughts with.

" Though I know you care not for this, Sansa must at some point stand alone, lest she be accused of being a pawn of yours. "

" There could also come a time when you, me, Dany or none of us will be there to offer support or advice. "

" We will be gone no longer than three or four days. "

" You must first wait out the storm to come and have it pass before you too take to the skies, my Lord ", from the Maester.

" If we are to present a united front of four houses should not the other two also be wed ? "

Tyrion's mismatched eyes bulge and the Silver Queen blushes.

" Oh come now we are all adults here and your feelings for each other are evident for all to see ", adding the words of the Dothraki, " It is known ", for good measure.

" And who would marry us ? "

" If a King can marry two people, can not a Queen as well ? "

" If my Queen would have me as her Prince, though I am ugly and undeserving ", from Tyrion.

" Then let us get to it ", from Dany.

We all rise from our various positions about the room to congregate on the terrace to be joined by Suozahn, who clutches something folded and multi~hued to her narrow chest. She presents first to Dany and then to myself and finally to Sandor and Tyrion. As we unfold the cloths we each see our Sigil's. She then presents to me my united crest of Houses Stark and Clegane. I love it and will fly it proudly for all days.

We all thank her and she looks to Ser barriston and her face falls and turns to return no doubt to her room to correct the err when Dany says, " Many thanks sweet Suozahn but can you also create a united Sigil of house...", Yes your Gra, I mean Dany !

And off she goes, the slap of her bare feet on marble fading and soon getting louder again as she returns breathless to present Ser Barriston with his Sigil. Ser Barriston is the only member of his house across the sea but Suozahn came up with one of a red single headed dragon on the field of black holding a white sword in a claw.

I think I see the beginnings of a tear when he straightens and thanks Suozahn, the mask of his stoicism firmly camouflaging what his heart secrets within it.

All eyes turn to me.

" Danaerys Targaryen, Storm Born and Queen of Quarth and...And Queen's Landing, do you take Tyrion Lannister as your Lord and Husband ? "

" I do so take him. "

Tyrion Lannister, do you take Danaerys to your heart as wife and Queen ? "

" I do so swear. "

" Then it is done, houses Targaryen and Lannister, united as one. "

" And I thought your Lord husband was one of few words ", from Tyrion.

Which earns a ghost of a smile from Sandor.

Ned starts to fuss as his usual mealtime has been interrupted by our impromptu meeting in our rooms, each guest leaves to their own matters Dany and Tyrion walking hand in hand.

I gather Ned his pink face quickly turning the crimson of a soon to be released cry if he is not fed. I put him to my breast and he sucks greedily his blue eyes peering at my face. Sandor comes behind me and ruffles his hair, placing a kiss atop mine.

" Wife, you are pregnant again. "

" What makes you say that ? "

" Your scent is different when you are with child, your taste as well ", he says while cocking an eyebrow.

Well this certainly puts things into perspective, I think. We must regain not only Westeros but Winterfell. I want my children to know the safety and security that once it's walls and my parents provided for me.

" Wife I am curious how do you intend to force Old Walder to relinquish the GreatJon ? "

" I am not, Dany will, under the guise of offering him and his protection from me if he turns coat and swears allegiance to her banner and releasing the GreatJon to quiet my ire. "

" Who came up this idea ? "

" I did. "

It is no crooked grin that graces his beautiful face but a large and toothy smile that spreads to his cheeks and eyes. Pride shines there I see. He is proud I have devised this subterfuge, I think happily. I burp and change Ned refusing gently Sandor's offer to change his wrap.

I set him down on a fur amid his playthings. He seems to favorite a wooden knight. Sandor's eyes stare intently on his toy. I remember Sandor telling me of his scarring and how they came to be over a toy probably very similar. I go to him and wrap my arms around him to break the spell of his memory and bring him to the now of our lives. He returns my hug with a sweet kiss to my lips. I brush his scarred cheek with a hand now bearing callouses from war play with a smile on my face and lower my face to nuzzle his chest.

He breaks our hug to tip my face towards his and say, " I am proud you are thinking and showing initiative, Sansa. "

" We have much to do husband and I feel as if time is running out for those that man the Wall and the Land. "

" Yes, I feel it as well like the world holds it's breath waiting for what, I know not. "

I see Ned is near sleep as his head dips to the fur and the action startles him awake only to watch his head once again dip. Sandor walks to him and motions for me to pick him up as he moves his toys off the fur. He strides to the bed and removes his swords then sits on the bed and removes his gauntlets and gloves the fur draped on his arm and lap so no point or cold metal touches Ned.

I place him in Sandor's arms and he sings softly to him. Another fine talent of my Lord husband is his voice. His notes are crisp and pure, yet another thing Sandor kept secret from the world. It always angers and shames me what stood so close to me but I never gave him a second glance because of his scarring. He is honorable and loyal and loving, brave and beautiful...My mine, I think with an inward grin.

I replay our plans in my mind. First is the Iron Bank of Braavos, second repelling the attack from the Whore, no doubt bolstered by Highgarden and the wealth of the Tyrell's, third securing the safety of the GreatJon.

The plans are bold indeed I think. Sandor has lulled Ned to sleep and places him in his crib by our bed and walks to me an eyebrow raised with what will surely be a question from his lips on him not going with Dany and Tyrion and myself to Braavos.

" I do not like the fact to you going off to Braavos, ( There it is ), without me. "

" I know this husband and I suspect either an attack or one or all of you will be approached to turn your coats, Lord Tyrion and Ser Barriston suspect is as well I am sure, though they have said naught of it to me. "

" In which case we will need your batter lore as well as that of Syrio and Ser Barriston. "

" I do not go just as a supplicant but also as a measure of safety to Dany and Tyrion. "

" The She~Wolf has awoken and been trained by the best ", says I as I pull him to meet my lips with a gentle kiss.

" I want you to be on your guard as well, Sandor, we know the enemy uses poison to great effect. "

" It would not do that I would reduce to ash Quarth should any harm come to you, your Grace ", Say I in a teasing tone...


	39. Chapter 39 Tempest

Quarth made ready for the onslaught of the sand storm. The gates were closed and barred as were all windows. Hanging signs of businesses were taken down and even small potted plants were trundled indoors away from the blowing sands. To say this was a storm was an understatement. The sands whipped up by howling winds acted as small carnivores with teeth. Abrading paint from walls and shredding vegetation like a cloud of ravenous locusts.

The assault on Quarth continued for two days. To look out the window one saw only a hazy brown cloud and visibility was cut to thirty feet at most. I was regaled by stories of caravans being caught out in the open and being buried alive by shifting sands or the very flesh of man and beast scoured off to leave naught but gleaming bones. I admit I took much comfort in being behind the thick walls of Quarth and those of the palace.

Our days spent indoors, our exercise yard was now moved inside in one of the many halls. The sound of mock battles rang off the marble floors and columns. Though I carry new life in me once more I am just as aggressive during our practice. Ned grows and scoots upon the floors his eyes taking in all around him. I have not started to show as of yet.

On the third day of the storm it's power and ferocity ebb dramatically. As I gaze past the walls of Quarth I see a land blasted of life. The landscape itself altered by the shifting of the sands. Palms which once graced the outskirts are now denuded of their fronds and reach skeletal trunks, like fingers pointing skyward. The sand...Sand inundates the streets and byways of Quarth. Dunes reach to the lowest tier in some places. Children use this as a landscape and slide down these dunes on planks of wood like Northern children used the same things to slide down snowy hills. A few of the braver or at least the more coordinated of them stand upon these planks to shoot down the dunes at even greater speeds. I marvel at how the innocent find entertainment where they can. Soon enough they will be chased from their amusement by the crews that have been mobilized to start digging us out of the desert that has invaded us.

Businesses rehang their signage and sweep off ( or shovel ) sand from their doorsteps to begin selling their wares anew. The taverns I see are the first to open their doors, followed closely by the brothels. Much to my dismay.

As the, " Rule Across the Sea ", gathers for our ritual meeting, Dany and Tyrion are the last to join us. Ser Barriston, never late was there as Sandor and I gathered at the table. Syrio followed close behind us. Once all were present Ser Barriston led off with...

" Quite a blow we had these past three days. "

" We must needs depart before dawn tomorrow to go to the iron bank ", from Tyrion.

I am packed and ready to go, it will be an adventure I think to myself.

Sandor's dark eyes rest upon my face as worry he gives no voice to roils behind his eyes. I am confident he will do fine minding Ned while I am in Braavos. A wet nurse will be provided him the few days I am gone. Sandor, however is another thing entirely. He trusts no one but himself with my care, up to and including myself. The fact I carry another Clegane deep within me no doubt has him beside himself. Had someone told two years ago how sensitive and caring Sandor was, I would have called them a liar or quite mad.

Our evening meal is mostly a silent affair, as each person no doubt goes though the coming events and their versions of it in their minds. Even my sweet Sandor barely touches his food. Something near unheard of for him. His ability to put away great quantities of food nigh legendary among those of us at the table.

Tyrion has very little wine this evening, I think it wise as the last time he took to a dragon's back after a night of debauched drinking he spat back up his morning meal after his mounts first dive. I wonder if those below thought it half as amusing as I did, to see him first turn green , then eject his bellies contents over the section of the city containing brothels. I did.

The meal ends on the same silent note as it began and we each slip off to our apartments for final preparations. Sandor's arm slung casually over my shoulder as I nestle closer to him. As we gain our rooms and he shuts the door firmly behind us he draws ,me to him. I peer up into his deep dark eyes and a small smile plays about his lips. My arched brow is an unspoken query.

" You will have a care my wife, yes ? "

" Always my love. "

" You as well husband ? "

In answer he pulls me closer and nuzzles the top of my head his long fingers stroking my back. I playfully nibble on his chest and feel his cock awaken, stirring, come alive against my belly. I am newly pregnant and if I am to join with Sandor the way I most like it we have very little time to do so. I give his man parts a slight squeeze and dash off, light footed to our bed chamber giving him my best seductress look cast over my shoulder.

I am stripped and lay atop our bed, one leg drawn up so that he may see I am ready for him, my sex wet and waiting for his ministrations. He saunters in and strips his tunic off, his belts for his weaponry. Sandor's body is a beautiful thing. Well muscled, marred here and there with scarring that only makes him even more appealing. His chest and belly is covered in thick, dark hair. I love the sight of it and the feel of it against me.

I quiver with a barely contained want of him. He eases his boots off and steps out of his breeches. His cock swollen, small pearls of his seed gathered at it's tip. I take as much of him that I can and suck with vigor, stroking him. I grab his backside and dig my nails into the flesh pulling him deeper into my mouth. I want his touch and the taste of him. It is not to be as he lifts off of him and guides himself to my depths, a hand clasped on my backside, another supporting my back clasped firmly at my shoulder, his thrusts deep and earnest. It is I who comes hard and earnest, my insides lapping at his shaft, milking him of his seed.

We tumble to bed, a mass of limbs and hair. He lays partially atop me, his deep breaths and the pounding of his heart the only sound to my ears. We stay intertwined in each others arms for a short while. Until I rise and walk to our shower, it saddens me slightly that his scent is washed from me to slide down the drain at it's center. He scrubs my back and I his. Nothing but the sound of water interupts our silent revelry.

As I lay in his arms that night. My gear lain out carefully for tomorrows ride I drift slowly to sleep to the rhythm of Sandor's beating heart.

Hours later there is a brisk rap at our door. It is time.

I rise and don my layers and when done I look every inch the warrior Queen I have become. Queen, a queen without a kingdom won as of this moment I think with no small amount of saddness . A bundle of food stuffs is slung from a strap about my shoulders. My bastard sword strapped to my hip. I carry a wicked looking spear as well. The Sigil of our united houses drapes from it's length. It will stream proudly in the wind as I ride Summer and when we land atop the spires of the Iron Bank.

Sandor places his hands gently upon my shoulders. His eyes intent upon .

" My wife, I love you and our life, be true and remember you go to win a kingdom and this is but the first of many steps. "

I grasp him in an embrace I press my face to his chest. I take in his scent. I have always found his scent of the untamed, manimal variety. I inhale once more and break our embrace. It is my turn to stroke his cheek with a gauntlet clad hand. I kiss him quickly and stroke my son's chubby cheek as well. I stride with surety out our apartment doors without a backward glance. Knowing if I do I am lost to both men in my life.

Dany and Tyrion are both about the terrace and all three of our dragon's are saddled and ready for our flight. Drogon chomps and gnashes his dagger like teeth. Summer's ranges her long neck to and fro as she espies my form. Tyrion's mount Wrath flaps his great wings stirring up a welcome breeze, Full armor in this heat is stifling at best. I am glad we shall soon gain the heights and speed that will offer relief from this all encompassing heat.

As we gain our saddles I see Syrio, Ser Barriston and my Sandor, holding Ned in his arms have come to see us off. I smile my brightest smile to my Lord husband and son and wave. Then we take flight and a small tear slides from eyes to be swept off my cheek by the wind.

We had the blessings of a tail wind so our mounts did not have to contend with fighting against it. At midday we saw a herd of Wasterlings, medium sized gazelles that roamed the prairies subsisting on the scrub grass that went for miles in any one direction once past the great desert. Dany had described them to me in detail. Our mounts need food as much as we and I needed to relieve myself. We swept in from downwind and caught them unawares. Not that it would have made much difference. There is no beast that can outrun a dragon. Flames licked and seared the frightened animals and our mounts ate their fill as their riders stretched their legs and ate too.

I wonder silently whether my husband is pulling out his hair being a single parent. I wonder if he is safe. I miss them both terribly already. I know I will not feel Sandor's hard form molded to mine own. Another tear slides down my face as I eat dried fruit and jerked meat. The meat reminds me of my time on the road with my husband. Another tear traces a streak down my face through the grime that covers me from head to toe.

I am lost in thought when I feel a light touch ipon my shoulder. I turn to see Dany's silhouette above me.

" You miss him much do you not ? "

" Tis true and we have only been gone a half day, I am concerned whether I will survive this parting. "

Dany's eyes crinkle into a ghost like smile. " You will survive and be all the stronger for it. " " He will be there strong and tall when you return. "

We finish our cold meal though Tyrion had torn a small piece of Wasterling flesh and shared it among us. It is time we take flight once again, we should gain sight of Braavos within the hour.

I was wrong, within one half hour we see the spires of Braavos. The Iron Bank sit's at it's center, dark and foreboding. The gay colored banners that flutter in the breeze belies the seriousness of the business conducted within it.

Dany and I soar in ever tightening circles while Tyrion guides his mount to a wide terrace near the top of the bank building. He is greeted by bristled spear tips. " Dracarys ", both Dany and I say together. Dragon fire spews in a hellish column above the skies of Braavos...

I dismount from Wrath to be greeted by a unit of Bank guards. I had anticipated this reaction. A wizened man pushes through the spears and bids me greeting.

" Be thee welcome, Lord Tyrion of Casterly Rock." " I am Lindorii of the Iron Bank. "

This is good I think to myself keeping my inward smile from the lips, they greet me by title.

" How may we accommodate thee ? " " Would you prefer to go inside to discuss terms ? "

" Much like the out of doors if you please. " " My Lady wife, the..."

" Silver Queen, Daenarys Storm Born." Finishes Lindorii.

" And you can pay in full, with interest of course what thee borrows ? "

" If I must take the Rock itself with dragon fire, shall I repay that what I borrow. "

A thoughtful look flits across Lindorii's face for a moment and he says.

" It is done then. " From Lindorii.

I blink in surprise as three large casks are brought forth. All filled to the brim with gold coin. I peer to Lindorii who replies to my unanswered question.

" Your sister has thought to rebuff our request for repayment of the loans made during the Baratheon rule and all those she herself has incurred while sitting as the Queen regent. " " We would ask that you make reparations to their debts as well. "

There it is I think sourly. Ever and always am I cursed with cleaning up Cercei's messes.

" Agreed I say. " " Once we regain Westeros and the North. "

" Agreed ", says Lindorii.


	40. Chapter 40 The Whispers of War

_I'd love to thank a few people,** emmiemac**, **crushnotsosecret, Sue** and all of you who review & P.M., ya'll ROCK ! **emmiemac** has a really awesome short on this site called, " **The Coldest Winter** " If you haven't checked it out, you really should, it'll make you cry... ( s/8806503/1/The-Coldest-Winter )_

As I watch Sansa diminish into the distance a cold knot spreads from my belly. Since our first flight from King's Landing until this day we have never been parted for more than a few hours. I will not feel her small, supple form lie molded to mine own this night I think with longing. I walk inside with Ned burbling away animatedly in my arms. I swear I can still smell Sansa's sent where she tickled under his chin. I place a kiss atop his head and take him with me to watch the drills of our growing army.

I watch our young warriors run their drills. Some fearful of the scarred giant watching them, others small chests swell with pride at my comments of, " Well done ", " Good move ". etc., etc.

Ser Barriston and Syrio are amid the fray with the older and more seasoned fighters. The tiny Braavosi is quite a sight. He is deadly quick and even more accurate. Many a time has he nearly bested me when I had to rely on my greater strength and reach to best him.

I see a woman of young years watching with me with intent. I have seen her about the palace and believe her place is in the kitchens. I can feel her weight of her stare as it bores into my back. She saunters over with a lustful eye.

" Your Grace, would you be wanting some company this evening ? "

" Not from you ", I say with a harsh tone. The fact she waits until my Sansa is not within earshot and me a wedded man, I find pathetic to say the least. I know exactly what Sansa would do, were she here.

" Move on girl, there is nothing for you here. "

She stands there in shock at my refusal. " Did I make myself unclear ? " " You have nothing I want, though there are a few young men who's interest you have piqued about the yard. "

As if snapping her from her intent she raises her eyes to look about the yard. Those not in mock battles ogle her browned skin and green eyed beauty. Some lick their lips another piggish one grasps his cock and thrusts his hips her way, a lascivious grin mounted on his face.

At no more urging the woman takes her leave of us. I wonder how long my Lady wife will be aground in Quarth before news of this reaches her ears. I sigh at what will befall this slattern, for surely she must be to attempt to seduce me a wedded man in front of so many.

Ned refused our first attempt to feed him with a wet nurse. His fussiness grew to cries which grew to wails loud enough to bring the walls down upon us. His small face scrunched and red, his legs kicking vigorously as well. He carried on for some time. Tries at offering him mashed vegetables were met by the flailing of his bunched fists. He relented at an offer of peaches and then bananas. I recall my wife repeating he must not have too much fruit or his wraps will become sodden with a soupy mess. The wet nurse once more offers him a breast and he suckles for a time with a lackluster mien.

Darkness has fallen several hours past. An alarm goes up and the sound of sandal clad feet meets my ears. A messenger comes to say they have returned. I am elated that my Sansa returns so quickly but apprehensive because it is so soon. I wait for a few minutes before I go in search of her.

I see Dany and Tyrion, Ser Barriston and Syrio greeting them. I cock my head to the side and am told by Syrio my wife is about the kitchen...

I had just dismounted when one of the dragon rookery hands informs me of some woman, ( who works the kitchens ), was attempting to lead Sandor astray during my absence. Lovely, not even gone a full day when some harlot tries to take what is mine. No time like the present to deal with this sort of thing. I walk quickly and start to remove my my gauntlets, no, I think these are best left on. I gain the kitchen and ask of one of the girls who, " Lonii ", is.

I see a woman of my height and dark hair. She turns to face me the smile falling from her face. I stride up to her to see her reach for a carving knife.

A smile creeps on my face to upturn the corners of mouth. This is how she wants it, so be it. I draw my own dagger and we face off, each circling the other. She jabs I block and instead of slicing into her I give her a punch to the face from my mailed fist. She staggers and though I see my chance to finish her I pull back. Remembering Syrio's and Ser Barriston's words of, " Never show any one opponent everything you can do. " Unless of course you must do so to win, in which case it matters not for they will be dead.

I smell blood and understand with perfect clarity the term, " Bloodlust. " I want her to be afraid, I want her to see her doom. Though she possesses some some martial skills I have no fear. Twas near my undoing. I nicked her shoulder which bled copious amounts and thinking her weakened moved in for the kill, fast she was near taking my eye with a jab to my face. Was only a twist of my shoulders to get out of harms way, which unbalanced me. She saw her opening and slammed into me, both of us in a heap upon the floor. Disamred as my blade skittered across the floor to stop spinning many feet from me.

She believes she has the upper hand. I rise. A smirk of victory plays about her lips. I walk with purpose to her, she falters a fraction of a second and that is all I need. I kick at her and connect under her chin, her head snaps back and her blade flies from her hands. She recovers quickly and now we brawl as men in a tavern. No hair pulling or scratching. Fists to faces. She made the error of punching me and missing to land on my breast plate. I heard the snap of bone. I punch her several times in succession.

" Be done with it wife. "

I hear the voice of my beloved behind me. I wonder how long he has been there. I deliver a final blow and her legs collapse from beneath her. I snatch her by her hair and say. " This is mine ", jabbing a finger to Sandor. " " The next time you think to take another woman's man, be sure you can defeat her. " " Will you attempt such a thing again ? " I ask while giving her head a savage shake, " Not just with mine own husband but any other's ? "

" No, your Grace. "

" Your life is forfeit, hear I otherwise. "

" What news ", say I.

" We were granted the boon which we sought. "

With that said, I go to Sandor and give a deep and lingering kiss to him, all while glaring at the slattern through slit eyes...

I remember that time across the sea I think as I lay abed. The tenderness of my belly's cut fading by slow degrees over the days. Catey has joined me as well as Ned. Anjelae goes about the business of running her lands. Robb has discussed with me how best to approach his father for his permission to go to the Citadel to forge his chain.

Dany sits Winterfell with Landon. Souzahn rides the night skies as does the GreatJon. They still have found neither hide no hair of them that leave the burned remains.

Souzahn was kind enough to make another trip to Winterfell to bring Brandae, I know her laughter will calm her father to a small degree. To have her tiny hand wrapped about his fingers and to have her sloppy child kisses placed on his cheeks, he loves his family with a tender heart.

Sandor himself rides the skies in search of his quarry, soon, I too will join the hunt.

Barriston and small Dany will soar above the North, neither Sandor or I wish to be parted from our new children. Nor do we wish to be vulnerable to a land attack if we cross the our lands aboard a wagon.

Where Barriston is large and robust small Dany is delicate. Where Barriston makes it known he is hungry with loud wails and kicking his legs small Dany will fuss quietly and scrunch up her tiny face. All the while sucking on her tiny, curled fists.

I long to be a Rider again, the freedom of Dragon flight is akin to a dance of lovers, Dragon and Rider are much attuned to the other. Once a Dragon is trained properly the bit is no longer necessary, you may guide the dragon with a shift of your weight or pressure of your foot or tug the reins that girdle the neck three quarters of the way towards their shoulders.

Once more we face a threat, still united though and thankfully we are older and wiser, icy fingers of apprehension writhe in my belly. I wish to be healed and ferreting out this as yet unknown evil. I reminisce over the long years of our life and rule sifting through memories...

" What is the time frame for launching the Whore's armada ? " " Four weeks, your Grace. " " I must also inform you the Silver Queen and the She-Wolf have secured a loan from Braavos, thanks to that kinslayer, Tyrion, this is distressing news. " " And what of the Whore ? " " Is she also aware of this latest development ? " " If she is, she has yet to impart that nugget of information to me, your Grace. " " Very well, be off to your affairs, it would not do should the Whore become aware of your true allegiance. " I bow and walk swiftly away on slipper clad feet...

I sit in the vast marble tub in our rooms after a quick shower. Shedding the grime and sweat that covered me from our hard ride to and return from, Braavos. The thought of sitting in my own dirt repulses me, hence the shower before but I need this soak. My muscles ache from hours astride Summers back. That and the row I was part of with that slattern Lonii.

This is the second time I have fought for my Sandor. Though the first was a ruse it is true, at the time I felt it was an honest fight. I know my husband to be wonderful and I think to myself how many other women have fought over him in the past. I plan to ask him that sometime.

I am still sore and crawl into bed beside my Lord husband. He pulls me close and I nestle in his embrace, my head upon his chest while his free hand gently strokes my hair. I fall quickly to sleep and dream.

" Welcome, sweet_ sister_ ! " I open my eyes and see Bran, strapped in his basket peering over Hodor's immense shoulder, my youngest brother Rickon holds the hand of a tiny woman~child. What has to be her brother looks on passively. A wilding woman stands with spear in hand while Hodor, his eyes wide as he shifts from foot to foot soft whimpers of his mantra, " Hodor, Hodor ", can be heard as his eyes roll around in their sockets at this strange environment.

I wonder to myself if I dream, I tentatively reach out my hand to brush the walls and withdraw it quickly, it feels of dank earth and I swear I see the comings and goings of worms and beetles and all the things that creep and crawl, unseen by mortal eyes beneath the world of man.

" Sansa ? " I turn once more to face Bran only now he he sits a throne of roots that twine about his limbs and through his hair. " Take my hand sister, quickly, I lack the strength to speak to you for any length of time for the nonce. "

I reach to his outstretched hand and... I am pulled through and into Bran. I see the taking of Winterfell, the murder of the miller's boys, every degradation of war, cannibalism, rape, torture. Thankfully it is faster and faster the pictures in my mind speeding to nearly a blur, then I see scenes that are mine own memories but seen through another's eyes.

And then the pictures slow and I see Sandor stroke my cheek gently while we were on the road as I lay sleeping, I watch him fumble with needle and thread and watch his brow furrow at his crooked stitches, I watch him as he watches me, my back to him as I bathe, scribbling away on a small piece of parchment and where he secreted it, I see also he takes the linen of my bedding and cuts the piece where my maidenhead's blood lies, he folds it carefully and places it in a tiny oilskin purse, the same that contained my wedded ring and puts it once more around his neck.

I see a group of the Night's Watch men fighting to little effect, things with black hands, glowing eyes, one in particular, a portly young man pisses himself but I see also the same young man strike true and slays the enemy with black glass.

I see also ships being built, more children being rounded up and stowed in the bellies of ships.

I see the Twins, the chambers beneath. I see what has to be Old Walder, I see the GreatJon, I see also a something I do not understand, it is a siege engine ? I will try to remember and draw it for the men to see.

The scenes in my head slow once more and I see a woman with dark auburn hair, her eyes, like the dark spaces between stars carry a malevolence that seizes my heart. She is not particularly attractive though by no means ugly, the only thing of note is the large ruby hung from a pendant around her slim , pale neck, it seems to glow and pulse.

" I tire sister, remember that which I have shown you, I will speak again with you. " I smile and tousle his hair and say, " It was but a dream of a woman grown, missing her family. " " Is that so, sister ? " " Then I give you this so you may remember. " He places something soft and supple in my palm and quickly closes my hand. He also shows me one more scene.

My Lady mother, her throat cut and stripped to be thrown nude into the Trident and dear Robb, his severed head sewn onto a wolf's body,_ his_ wolf's body and upon Robb's body is sewn Grey Wind's head, it is too much and I wail, my tears burn against my cheeks and I am shaking...

" Sansa, _SANSA_, wake wife, _WAKE_ ! "

I come to and see the worried visage of my beloved hovering above me. His large hands on either shoulder, shaking me from my sleep.

" Husband, what do you keep in the small oilskin purse you wear on a leather cord about your neck ? "

_Sandor's_ eyes dip and his cheeks color slightly and raises his face to mine and says.

" The linen of our bedding, a small piece where your maidenhead was breached, where your bled. "

" Do you still keep your writing in the secret pocket of your glove ?"

He narrows his eyes and nods once.

I open my curled fist, the hand Bran placed something in. It is red as blood, a leaf of a tree, a _Heart Tree_...


	41. Chapter XLI Rally the Troops

I love puzzles, mazes etc. The text that is in Italic form below are " **_Keys_** " to a puzzle that **_YOU _**the reader must figure out for yourself in future chapters. Think scavenger hunt...It won't be easy, the first one to figure it out in ALL it's steps in their **ENTIRETY** gets an autographed picture from either Rory McCann or Sophie Turner, **_your_** choice... Not ALL chapters will have a puzzle piece it's up to you to separate the wheat from the chafe ! On a lighter note this chapter is for **QueenofThorns82, Cris Coursey, kttn1331, Juliana5782 and ScienceofSleep0327, Kell~Belle & Sue, thanks for your support :** ) **To clarify you must find the location and the object hidden there**

" How came you to know these things, Sansa ? "

" A _dream_, my love. "

" I dreamed of Bran and Rickon and Hodor and a brother and sister and a _Wilding_ woman. " I relate the dream in it's entirety to my husband. He does not laugh but sits, his eyes clear and thoughtful.

" I think you have had a vision of sorts. "

" You do not think me mad ", say I eyes wide.

" No, I have seen too many things in _battle_, of men who know they die this day, of others who say blessed warriors see their own deaths or that of their _enemies_ and it comes to pass "

" Husband...I saw also a vision of my Lady mother and Robb. " Tears slide down my face and I cannot contain the ache that builds in my heart. I raise my eyes to Sandor, though I can't see him clearly through my blurry eyes. He wraps me in his arms and rocks me. Long minutes pass and sobs shake my shoulders, he strokes my hair and murmurs his love for me. The weight of his words subdues my pain that twists like a rusted blade, nicking gashes and chunks from my breaking heart.

" I did not wish to break you by telling you of the maltreatment of your kin's remains, it would serve no purpose but cause you pain. " " If I was wrong I am sorry, little bird but I did not know your full measure then, nor how much more you could take. "

I brush his lips lightly with my fingertips and wrap my arms about his neck. I kiss his forehead, nose and both cheeks before placing gently kisses on his mouth. " You did no wrong, Sandor, I know you, I know your _hidden_ _heart_." We lie down and I snuggle up to him.

It nears dawn and I think to stay awake, tears from my face are wiped quickly away. Sandor lies sleeping abed and I watch the rise and fall of his chest. I wish to discuss the dream with my_ family_ across the sea. I roust Sandor gently and we dress after feeding Ned and walk with hurried steps to the table. Ser Barriston is already there as well as _Syrio._ We hear Dany and Tyrion's voices approaching as they speak in clipped tones.

" Am I the only one who had odd _dream_s ? ", from Dany. By look on everyone's faces it appears the answer is no.

Tyrion tosses a coin on the table. It is a golden, the coin of Westeros we all think. " This came to be in my hand as I woke after speaking with your brother Bran, Sansa. " " Hodor and I spoke as well, though the conversation was mostly one sided I'm afraid ", he says drolly.

" He said we should stand united, Bran that is. "

" Well, someone obviously put it in your hand, you did collect several thousand pounds of gold with more coming overland ", from Ser Barriston.

" Tis true, Ser, however_ none_ of the coins are stags, why would they be ? " " Nay, look at this face of it... "

Barriston pics up the coin and his face pulls into a frown, he flips it over, he bites it and passes it to Syrio. His eyebrows creep with alacrity up his forehead as he too turns the coin over in his fingers and passes it to Sandor.

Sandor's eyes narrow and his brows pull together and passes the coin to me.

Small Souzahn joins us, rubbing sleep from her eyes.

I turn the coin in my hand. On one side is a _Dragon_, the other the Stark Dire_wolf_.

Souzahn speaks with a child's speed and enthusiasm. " I found this in my hand ", she says quickly. " I also had a dream of people I did not know and a giant of a man carrying a boy in a basket ", she relates with a laugh.

In her hand is a key, large and ancient. The teeth are intricate and it is four _pronged_ unlike most keys that are single _pronged_.

" The boy in the basket said I should be _true_. "

" It is a, " _Fails Safe_ ", key ", from Tyrion. Only the Lord and Captain of his house guard would possess such a key. " It is a _hidden_ room within a Keep, where treasure or women and children may be secreted to keep them safe from slaughter or abduction should the Keep be overrun. " " The keys come in pairs, a door may not be opened unless it's mate is also in the keyhole and both are turned at the same time."

" Dany places something heavy on the table. It is the top ten inches of a _blackened_ sword. Ser Barriston picks it up and says, " This is from the Iron Throne, I swear it. " " The etchings in the fuller are from a forgotten knight that rose in rebellion against the Dragon Lords. "

" He told me to take what is mine with _fire and blood_. "

I add to the collection with my _Heart Tree_ leaf and relate my dream to the others.

My eyes look to Sandor who _sheep_ishly brushes small bits of grain on the table, the _yellow of autumn_. " This is wheat, what the lands of House _Clegane_ grows. "

" He told me above ever and all, keep her _safe_. "

Now all eyes slide to Ser Barriston. Who produces two pieces of folded _parchment_. We all take a turn reading it. It is a brief summary of Ser Barriston's life and achievements, written in a cramped but neat _hand_, a _hand_ all of us know to be his own. Some of the ink is brown with age while other text still retains the black of it's original color. On the second sheet is that of Ser Jaime Lannister and as Tyrion reads it he confirms that this is indeed in Jaime's_ hand_.

" He told me fight to the last, though it may seem grim lay them to waste with one last _strike_. "

My mismatched eyes flit from all present before he says, " Would that it was just your's Barriston, I would say you were our trickster, however this from Jaime was written long after your departure from King's Landing. "

" Those are pages from the book of the _King's Guard_, none but the Captain write in the book. "

He steeples his finger's and rests his chin on their tips but not before he scratches the knobby scar tissue of his nose. Say what you will about Tyrion's form, there is none that I have met who's mind is as sharp as any true warrior's blades. I look to my Lady wife, her copper hair shimmers in the dawn's light. Her lips purse slightly and and worry lines appear on her forehead. I cover her hand, still tiny even though it is encased in a gauntlet, within my own large hand and give her a slight squeeze, which breaks her from her thoughts and she graces me with a smile.

I care not what trials we face as long as _my little bird_ will be there beside or waiting for me.

My musings are interrupted as Syrio speaks.

" Ser Barriston, what is the state of our troops and how many do we have that we can take into battle ? "

" Seasoned warriors over the age of fifteen we have three thousand-two hundred and seventy-five. " " Eleven to fourteen year old, nearly six thousand. " " Women, all ages, nearing eight thousand. "

" We are fielding sixteen thousand ", I say with amazement.

" Nay, we field at most eleven thousand, in reality, not everyone woman~child has your skill or heart, Souzahn and your Graces' ", from Barriston who eyes her slight form.

" And what of the sell swords ? "

" I have secured five thousand swords ", says Tyrion.

It is then that one of Dany's Dothraki enters to spit words quickly in their guttural tongue, she rises and bids us join her.

We enter the throne room to see a gathering of more Dothraki..All Khals, gathered, each eyeing the other with disdain or suspicion.

They address Dany and appear to pepper her with questions for some minutes. She answers just as quickly and bids that a place be made at the table for them.

Quickly Dany tells us they have heard the mother of Dragon's intends to ride and take Westeros, they have come to her offering their riders.

" How many ", from Syrio and Ser barriston ?!"

" At what cost ", asks her husband ?!'

" Combined, sixty-_thousand_ !"

" They ask that Quarth be granted them in return for their _horse_s and_ arahks_ and blood. "

I am doing the math in my head, if we field every body at our command we will field an army of nearly eighty-thousand. Add to that my Lady wife's fathers_ banner_ men and we will field an army of one-hundred-_thousan_d !

My heart soars and I grasp Sansa close to me.

I add the troops in my head as Sandor puts his arm around me to pull me close to him. We will have an army one-hundred-_thousand_ strong, the number boggles my mind.

As I stand there reflecting and working numbers in my head a heated argument ensues between Dany and one of the younger Khals. He points towards me and licks his lips, his dark eyes roving over my form. Sandor beside me loosens his grip and eases away from me and I feel the heat of his rage as it seethes beneath his skin, his eyes pinning the Dothraki. I fear for my husband.

He is not in full armor only gauntlets and vambraces he shrugs Bane into my hands and instead uses his side sword, the bastard length he straps to his side and a dagger, the Dothraki, a surly grin about his lips twirls his arahk in his hand and the two men circle each other.

The Dothraki is the first to strike, which Sandor easily parries while jabbing at his opponents midsection. Sandor scores first blood the Khal unable to dodge the strike. And so it went for long minutes, until the Khal, no doubt tiring, attempted to feint right while his true intent was broadcast by the placement of his feet, Sandor allowed him his ruse and swiftly knocks his arahk from his hand. Unarmed the Dothraki srtaightens and prepares for the death blow, that does not come.

Instead Sandor throws down his weapons and punches the man in his face, as a tooth spews out of his mouth with a ribbon of blood. The Khal mounts a bare fist attempt and punches Sandor in the mouth, instead of his head snapping back like the Khal's did Sandor's mouth splits into a bloody grin as his spits out a mouthful of blood. If anything it pushes him over the edge into bloodlust as he lets loose a rain of mailed fists on the brown form of the Khal.

One hit connects with the Khal's ribs and we are not spared the sound of splintered bone or the spray of blood. He is beaten tis true, Sandor serves one final insult, he shears his braid and perhaps part of his scalp as well, places a hand on his shoulder, another under his chin and calmly breaks his neck.

He strides to me and in perfect Dothraki says loudly, " Mine", and places a rough kiss on my lips. His eyes are flat, cold and empty. I lace my fingers into his and stroke his cheek. Instantly my husband is behind his eyes and I see their warmth and love.

The other Khal's look on passively and nod their heads in approval then continue their conversations.

Sandor hands me the braid and I notice there is a bit of scalp to it. I walk silently to our rooms and place the trophy on our spear that holds our united sigil. I hear Sandor's steps only because he wishes me too, for a man so large he is incredibly light of foot. He grasps my shoulders and turns me around to face him. I peer into his eyes and with some measure of relief I see he is still there in their warm depths.

" I am sorry if I frightened you. "

" I never fear you, _husband_."

I think of Arry's message to me and one part in particular..." ...You will need his strength, canniness, battle lore and yes, his savagery and rage too... "

I lock him in place with a kiss and stroke the breadth of his chest with my slim, pale fingers, taking in his scent and the thick muscles beneath his tunic. I break away and the taste of his blood still lingers. He walks to bathe and wash away the gore and I leave him to his thoughts.

I am the wife of a true warrior I think. He defends me as he has for a long time now, long before we married, long before he claimed me as his or he as mine.

I'm standing there in my thoughts when I feel his body mold to mine, his large hands on my shoulders. " Husband, what was in your mind as you were fighting ? "

" I was thinking how I wished it was that animal Meryn Trant and how I hope still, to deliver him in pieces to all seven hells. "

I notice without comment he didn't add the, " Ser ", to his name.

I turn in his grasp and pull him tightly to me and am just about ready to love him in earnest when there is a rap on our doors.

A heavy sigh escapes my lips as we break our embrace to welcome our visitor, though welcoming is furthest from my mind. I feel guilty as I Sandor opens the door to Souzahn who bounces in merrily a wide grin upon her face.

She carries a bag over her shoulders that is as big as she is and heavy by strained look on her face. Sandor eases her burden and she grabs my hand and her sack and leads me to the privy ?

She carefully sets her bundle down and closes the door. " I want to show you this, and wanted to put it on but..."

I open the sack and smile. I withdraw her chain mail and ease her into it. Help her with gorget, cuirass pieces and the rest of her accouterments.

" It is too loose ", says she with a frown. " Nay, once you put on your quilting beneath it will fit perfectly ", I say with a wink.

I wonder if Dany will be able to contain the Khal's and how long it will be before one challenges Tyrion for her hand. I walk Souzahn out to show Sandor our newest warrior.

" Swing warrior ", Sandor bellows !

Souzahn, dutifully brings her small sword to bare against the great sword _Bane_, almost.

He walks to her and adjusts the binding of her pauldrons, " Not too tight Souzahn, it will restrict your movement. " And he tells her once more to swing. She does and her movements are more fluid and the clang of steel meeting steel sings in our rooms. I know Sandor is doing this more for her confidence, she would not last a moment had he been earnest in his attacks.

Small Souzahn's eyes are glowing with a warrior's light and she is fast, accurate and tenacious. After a half hour of this Sandor begs off.

Sandor tells her she is much improved and will no doubt be an asset in the coming war, her bright eyes enlarge and most of her face disappears in a toothy grin.

As she leaves us to no doubt sing of Sandor's praise of her mettle, my husband says she will no doubt be a swordmain of some repute and skill, should she survive.

Survival, that is first and foremost in my mind. It is not only my life on the line but that of my husband, my children, Souzahn's, the _North_, all the children who will be sold, of the women who will be raped, of son's lost in battles yet to come. I must not falter, I will stay the _course_ I will retake my homeland and I most assuredly, I _will_ retake _Winterfell_.


	42. Chapter XLII Allies

We gather for evening meal and are joined by the Khal's of the Dothraki, they still eye each other with menace and I wonder if the meal will end in blood letting. Sandor eats with relish all the while keeping a hand on my leg. It comforts me to know this large man will fight to protect me and fight well.

I smile inwardly as it seems we are both to defend the other from others less honorable. I vow never to take my husband for granted and intend to show him just exactly how much he means to me this evening.

As the meal winds down and plates are cleared Dany starts the conversation. " Ser Barriston, how many ships are required to bring the Dothraki across the Narrow Sea ? "

" To transport eighty-thousand people and livestock and supplies... we will need a minimum of five thousand for transporting people, four-thousand for horses and other livestock and an additional two-thousand for supplies. "

Tyrion scratches his nub of a nose and says, " We have three-thousand ships, here, at our disposal with another two-thousand coming from the Iron Isles. " " We also have perhaps twelve-hundred more in slaver ships we have seized and another one-thousand that are merchant ships that are willing to ferry us for a price. "

" We are still at least four-thousand short ", from Dany.

" True ", says Tyrion, " However, the Whore is sending at least eight-thousand ships to engage us. " " If we can keep half the ships relatively intact, that would go far in solving our problem of transport. "

" What of the men aboard the ships ? "

" They are enemies and should be treated as such ", from Sandor.

And in perfect Westeros a Khal puts forth his opinion, " Someone needs to go, go to Westeros and wait for reinforcements."

" If we send a small contingency now, by the time the boats carrying them return, the Whores boats will be ours as well. "

As simple statement but who will go, how many will they take, I think to myself idly.

Ser Barriston says two words that change the timbre of the conversation.

" I'll go."

Dany looks to Barriston, " I will go as well and try to barter with Old Walder to gain the GreatJon's freedom and with it his bannermen. "

We shall take fifty ships and pack them with supplies and warriors, when you are within sight of land you will secret yourself at the location Lord Seaworth has given us to know. " " I will meet you there once a raven has been sent to us. "

" From there we will follow the Trident to the Twins and Ser Barriston and I will talk with Old Walder. " " Once we enact the second part of our plan and after we secure the GreatJon our ships will dock and we will secret ourselves within the Twins. "

" The ships will then return, we cannot afford for the enemy to take them and use them against us. " " We must have a care and make sure none escape to tell the tale, we will drop off some troops on either side of the river to lay in wait for any escapees or stragglers. " " Ships plying the Trident are common, even in times of war as long as they appear to be merchants and nothing more. " The Dothraki will be above deck, it is nothing to see browned sea traders in the Riverlands. " " We will just have a care that they are in traders garb with araks secreted. "

" If we control the Twins we will wield much power in the Riverlands. " " It be the only crossing within hundreds of miles. "

" It is paramount that we keep ourselves unknown and as such no raiding or pillaging. "

The Khal's speak among themselves for a time and all agree this is the best course of action for the nonce. Sansa's hand moves to gently squeeze my upper thigh in want or need, even that gentle touch rouses my cock to life. I try to think of other things like battle and killing and not the suppleness of her skin or the way she looks me in the eye when she swallows what I give her. I berate myself inwardly, this is not the time to have my mind wander to love and softness of my wife's flesh.

Now is the time to collect ones thoughts and bend them towards war.

After more random discussions we all wander off in twos and threes, Sansa lacing her fingers about my upper arm as we walk casually to our rooms.

As she attends Ned and puts him abed in his crib she comes to me and strips me slowly to skin. My cock swells as I do the same for her. The pink tips of her breasts tighten into hard points, I reach to rub a nipple rolling it between thumb and forefinger and bend to take the other in my mouth.

She moans softly and leaps into my arms suddenly and wraps her long legs about my waist, grinding her wet sex into my belly. I kiss her hard and deep I want to taste her, feel her and drive my aching member to the hilt in her hot, wet depths.

She grasps the back of my head and pulls me into her lips, sucking on my tongue and running hers behind my teeth, I thrill at her every taste and touch, I kneel and place her gently on our bed. Her sex glistens, wet and wanting. I finger her opening and she arches her back, I rub the hard core as she pinches and pulls her nipples, I lower my face to the juncture of my Queens legs and flick, suck and pinch her nub.

She grasps my cock and guides it within her, savoring all I have to offer, after over a year of my ministrations and taking me into her center and birthing my strong, big boy she is still deliciously tight. I grasp her by her hips and set our rhythm, it is not enough for and she bucks against me the harder I give her the harder she wants it. I fear I will harm her when she pulls me to her and matches my thrusts with her own, setting a frenzied pace, my come nears and my sweet little bird reaches hers first, her insides suck me, pulling the seed which explodes to fill all that is her.

I pick her up and gain the bed my cock still pulsing within her. She rolls onto her back taking her with me, I am careful not to crush her with all my weight.

" There is nothing like the safety and feel of a big man ", she says quietly. I love how you love me, I love the feel of you, in me. " " I love the smell of you, your voice, the way you think, how strongly you love me, how protective you are. "

She raises her head and kisses my throat, my chin and my scarred side. I try to pull away but she is insistent. I relent and allow her to really see me. I know she sees me but even now, I present her with my, " Good ", side. I always stand, lay and sit to her right. Her delicate, pale fingers trace my scarring. From scalp, to ear, ( Or whats left of it ) to my jawline and part of my neck. The feeling is subdued in parts of it and in others it aches and at times it has shooting pains. I am ugly I know. How this beautiful woman ever came to love me and share her life with me is a mystery that only the Gods themselves understand. I know with a certainty I will love her all my days. I wish to have a Keep filled to the brim with our children. I wish to keep her safe, from this day to my end days.

She pushes on me to roll me off her and I lay on my side, she scoots up and pulls me closer, the only thing I see and smell is that glorious crown of copper and the mild scent of roses and spice, her scent and that is my last thought as I surrender to sleep my little bird pressed close to me, her heart shaped ass pressed to mine belly.

I wake to the sounds of my son fussing and Sansa stirs as well. I pick him up and change his wrap as my wife rubs sleep from her eyes.

She watches with a critical eye as I change Ned's wrap, my wife trusts me implicitly in all things except one. She seems to feel I am incapable of wiping my own son's backside after he fills his wraps. It amazes me how much something this small can shat in one day.

Sansa rises and quickly bathes, she walks nude to collect Ned and feed him.

" A few more months and I will wean him ", says my wife. " Soon another mouth will take his place ", I say with a smile."

When Ned is done feeding Sansa puts him in his clothing for the day. I smile widely as I see the seamstresses have been busy. He wears the colors of my house, the three that died embroidered across the front of his small tunic in black.

" He is a Clegane, you know, husband. "

I smile a little and say, " He is that it's true, my Queen but he is also a Stark and it would not offend me if you dress him in your Greys. "

" He is a melding of both our houses my Prince, I think I shall ever dress our children in _shades of yellow and grey_. "

I think I see my Lord and husbands eyes mist slightly at my last words. He places a gently kiss on small Ned's head and a chaste kiss upon mine own lips and says, " I had never thought to have a Lady wife, I had thought if I sired any pups that they would be bastards for who would take me and cleave to me as wife. " " All things I had hoped for in the furthest part of my heart have come to pass. " " Not only did I win the lady fair but a Queen at that. " " I am honored that you found me worthy and I am sorry beyond words if ever I frightened or offended you, for you above all women may command me. "

His words mean much to me and I look to him, my eyes as well brim with tears. " I love you, Sandor and I know in the past I have cut with words and my eyes carried disdaine for you. " " I am sorry that I have hurt you, I was young and knew not what stood before me but I will bear your children and be wife to you in all ways. " " We must win the coming war, my love, much depends on this. " " I carry another Clegane within me. " " I would have our children know the safety of the North and the walls of Winterfell. "

He says nothing for a time but draws me close to murmur in my ear, " As my Queen commands, so shall it be. "

We gather at the table and are the last to arrive I see. Barriston we are told is about the palace making final preparations for their departure. The Khal's speak among themselves and even engage Tyrion in conversation. I ask how it came to be that they speak the language of Westeros when I am informed that it was Khal Drogo's wish that some of their members learn the language for when they traveled to take the metal chair for, " The moon of his life." I find it ironic that they will help retake Westeros after all.

I sit next to my Lord husband and Prince while my long dead husband's men sit my table. Even from beyond does, " My sun and stars", guide me and ensure my future. Make no mistake I do love Tyrion but I am well aware if I took anything but a man of Westeros as my husband there would be rebellions and plots from the day I took back the Iron Throne until they succeeded and I am dead. The fact that he is of the strongest and richest House has not escaped my notice.

Tyrion is all things a husband should be, at least to my way of thinking. What he lacks in size he makes up of for in his mind nor does he lack size in his manhood to my happy surprise. He is skilled as lover, in conversation, the history of the Land I will someday rule and attentive in all ways. He is misshapen but I love him.

Ser Barriston joins us and tells us all of his intent to martial the troops to leave on the morrow. We have been informed that the Twins have five-hundred men in each tower, two-hundred in the water tower and five-hundred garrisoned in tents outside behind staked trenches.

He calculates we will need as many troops if not more and settles on a number, that is thirty-five-hundred people altogether. We bring thirty-two-hundred warriors, three hundred support, twenty-five hundred horse and pack animals and two dragons. Plus them that will meet us at the location of Lord Seaworth's choosing.

Once the GreatJon is safe and Twins are taken and our own men installed therein, the rest of the ships will return to Quarth and bring the remaining troops after the Whore's crews are either turned or killed. I think in my mind I wish to not shed the blood of Northern men. I would spare the sister of my heart more pain.

So I am grateful to learn the men of of the North, are, for the most part sailing in the armada Seaworth himself commands. A few pivotal ships and their commanders sail within the armada the Whore will field. I hope those that are allies remember to fly the correct flag by night.

All our dreams and hopes ride on the the wiliness of Barriston, Seaworth and Westeros' fear of dragons. I look to Sansa as she sits, head bent to Sandor and wonder what my friend and sister Queen thinks.

She is a skilled swordmain and is just and caring. She loves her man with a deep and encompassing passion, it is reflected in her carriage, mien and eyes. She possesses a silent strength shrouding her slim, pale shoulders. She will make an excellent Queen of the North. I see now what others have referred to as the North's steel.

I watch them rise as Sansa bends to kiss Souzahn and bid her goodnight, Sandor tousles her hair and nods to the rest of us as he takes his wife to their rooms, Ned asleep in the crook of his bent arm. His other draped over Sansa's shoulder, her arm about his waist...


	43. Chapter XLIII To War

I awake in the dark before dawn as the birds sing their greetings to the coming day. Sandor, I see is already up and dressed and Ned is changed and burbles happily while gnawing his chubby fists. I rise and feed him then wash the sleep from my eyes.

I put on my layers as Sandor helps me with my armor's buckles. As we stride out the door with Ned to meet with those that depart. The men and supplies had been loaded and many crates marked as spices and grains that actually contained armor, were loaded under the cover of night. The fleet of a man known for transporting livestock takes care of the horse flesh, pack and food animals. If the Dothraki's who care for them upset him, he does not show it.

The ships set sail before dawns light creeps and the suns all seeing eye sweeps Quarth with it's angry glare. As the ships slipped off with a Dothraki second and an Unsullied leader as well as units of each aboard, it begins. For good or ill, we strike now first.

As we gather round the table for breaking our fast it is decided that I will rule in Dany's stead with both Tyrion and Sandor as advisors when she and Barriston leave for Westeros. I am giddy and nervous at once. I will do my best to rule as she would I tell her and she responds thus, " I want you to rule as you will rule Sansa, you will have the North to rule as you see just and I have faith in your ability to be fair and do the right thing ", says she with a smile.

Barriston estimates it will be about two weeks before he and Dany depart.

In our practice yards the sounds of battle take on an earnest timbre. All know the time for war fast approaches. We gather once more round our table for middays meal. I look at the faces of those seated and wonder how many of us will still be standing after all is said and done.

I turn the events over in my mind of the order of things and turn to Syrio and ask, " Why do the Others come ? "

He stops midbite to set his spoon in his bowl. " Sansa, the world is full of balance, you cannot have a day without a night or low tide without high. "

" It is my belief and that of a few others that the Red Witch has awoken them. " " What is the opposite of fire but ice ?" " Her meddling with an old and angry god, one of death and pain and fire has stirred his opposites to wakefulness. "

" Make no mistake, should Stannis win, she will convince him and many others of her so called, " Power ", and then the death begins in earnest. " " She makes no secret of the flames hunger for human life and weak people are always looking for someone or something to save them. " " Usually from themselves ", from Sandor as he mutters under his breath.

" That statement is true, your Grace ", says Syrio. " Regardless of the, " Why ", they are walking the land of men and they are here none the less. There is a reason a Dragon Lord has risen and eggs have hatched, the numbers of white walkers that roam and gather beyond the wall is unheard of. " " There is not enough dragon glass the world over to put down every one of them with cold black hands and glowing eyes. "

" Should we not work towards creating more dragon glass ", say I ? " We have the means to create arrowheads made from this. "

All eyes turn to me and I feel a blush rise to my cheeks, perhaps I have spoken out of turn. I remember quite clearly a rock out crop where brittle rivers of dragon glass may be found in the North. Specifically, a large collection of, " " Snow Obsidian ", found by sheepherders long years ago. That dragon glass has blooms of snowflake like patterns dispersed through it's black.

" Once we retake Winterfell we will have much for weapon making ", I say in a whisper.

" Sandor gives me a crooked smile and says, " The plan is good, anything we may use against this daemon threat is well and good. "

" Agreed, the creation of dragon glass is no easy thing here in Quarth, it is formed from the rapid cooling of liquid rock ", says Tyrion. " I have discussed this with many a Maester, it was decided the North would be best for this, using the climate as a tool and ally. "

" Shall we divide our forces ", from Dany ? " I do not wish to raze Winterfell to the ground in an attempt to flush Bastard number two from it. "

" Nay, we will offer him pardon if he unites once more under the Stark Sigil. " " Unfortunate accidents have been known to befall men in battle ", says Tyrion with a smug look upon his face.

From Sandor, " He has no say in the matter, it is his Lord father we must turn, number two will be brought to heel by his sire, Lord Bolton and him through his own greed. "

" No one will ask questions if he is beheaded or run through during times of war ", says Barriston.

" Beheading is too quick a death for a daemon such as he ", says Dany. " I believe ones punishment should reflect the crimes. "

" Husband, have you spoken with your man within the Red Keep ? " " I have, my wife, he is making preparations for the day we lay siege, as it were. " " Excellent ", from the silver Queen.

" And how is Bronn ", from Sandor ?

" Drinking and whoring and collecting information as any good spy should ", says Tyrion, his eyes peeping from a tipped cups rim.

Sandor's eyes narrow but he says nothing. I remember Bronn as being direct yet indifferent, I recall also the way his predator's eyes roved over me when he thought Tyrion or I wasn't paying attention. He is no young upstart of a Khal and I make a mental note to keep my eyes and ears upon him once Westeros is taken.

I feel the gentle squeeze of Sandor's hand upon mine own and he leans to me to say, " Fear not wife, he is a sellsword and dangerous but do not think I have forgotten the hungry leers he cast your way when he thought none were wise to them. " Sandor's voice is low and calm but his eyes speak volumes as the warmth escapes them and in it's place the cold of the abyss yawns, deep and dark. The mouth that kisses me and yields under mine own is set in a pinched, grim line. I wonder what else my Lord husband and Prince has observed.

I cannot help but smile a bit as I realize he truly did have a care for me even then, when I abused him with hasty words or rolled eyes. How young and foolish was I then. How fearful of his scars and of Bane. Which led my thoughts to my Lord father and how true his advice was, how he felt Sandor could some day save my life. I wonder what my father would say to our union, would he love his namesake any less because his father wasn't of a long and noble line ?

Enough, I want to train with Summer today, I have been practicing steep dives and then banking at the last minute far out to sea. I have decided that all should implement this maneuver as it may come in handy for coming in to heat the arse's of our enemies. Specifically front line archers and heavy horse. The flames and dragon scent alone will send many a steed into a frenzy of fear.

I speak my intent only to find most of my fellow rebels have been doing the same thing. I forget myself at times, some of our members have been warriors longer than I have been alive. My own Prince took the life of his first man when he was but twelve, two full years before I was even born.

It is then I remember the device in my dream, I ask Souzahn for parchment and quill and proceed to draw it. It is wooden and wheeled and has a large bow mounted on it's top. The bow is twice the length of Sandor's height and is drawn back by means of a winding wheel. I present my crude drawing to the others. Barriston and Sandor frown deeply.

" This device is meant to slay dragons ", from Barriston. " We must needs take these out before troops."

All nod in agreement.

Ships are also built to be dragon roosts at sea. Though our mounts can cross the Narrow Sea in less than four days we wish to keep them rested for battle once the bulk of our troops land. In order to strike fear in our opponents we had asked Souzahn to create our war sigil. Ones to be flown as we march to victory or doom. She has been busy we see as she produces it.

Our army will be divided into two main bodies, our war sigil is thus, a two headed dragon on a field divided in half of grey and it's opposite black, the dragon's body and necks of the same colors with the grey half on black, the black on grey, bordering the sigil and bisecting it a twist of the colors of red and gold. A flame of white spews from both maws to unite in a fiery bloom, all our houses colors used.

She also produces banners to be carried, made from heavy canvas so that they may endure the harsh climate of the North.

There is nothing left to do this day but take to a dragon's back and fly. So we do. Summer I think views this as play and dives, wheels ascends and plummets with a liquid grace, bringing forth flame upon command. I fly over land and direct her to land and teaching her to dig. I remember my father's words once to Robb, when discussing the various Keeps and their merits or failings. " The Twin's possess one secret, a series of tunnels that connect all three towers beneath and Old Walder's treasure hoard lies there as well. "

I remember my Lord father's words as I command Summer to dig, I see a shadow slide over us as a dragon soars above us. In a few minutes my husband and his mount land beside us. Observing Summer's efforts for a few moments he says, " Teaching her to dig is a good plan, so you may root Old Walder from his hidden lair no doubt. "

My face must betray my shock as Sandor continues with, " Yes, Old Walder's hidden passages and treasure room are well known to the Lannister's as well. "

I lace my fingers behind his neck and pull him into a kiss. His mount Halcion sniffs at Summer to be reprimanded by her stopping her digging and snapping at his snout. Chastised he emulates his sibling by digging a trench of his own. Stopping every few minutes to cast a disdainful look over his shoulder at my dame.

We take to the skies and practice flames while hovering, quick fireballs and maintaining constant flame. The dragons are intelligent and learn new knowledge quickly.

As we fly back to Quarth I gain on Halcion and Summer dives beneath him to appear in front of I stick my tongue out at Sandor and his mount as we take the lead. Halcion and Sandor are having none of that as Halcion redoubles his effort. It is then a spear (?) flies before my face and Summer roars and without prompting gains a height with Halcion close behind. We soar high and see nothing but sand below and some rocks. Sandor motions for us to follow for a mile then descends at great speed mere yards from the ground. As we near the area of the assault just beyond and atop a ridge we gain the plateau and release dragon fire then veer off and climb once again. The screams of burning men rings in my ears.

I espy two devices burning and smaller burnt forms, ( men ) strewn about them. Sandor motions for me to stay at altitude while he lands. I lower Summer and see Sandor poking about the ruins of wood and flesh. I land to have Sandor whip about Bane drawn. " Wife I told you to stay in the skies until it is safe !" " Well I was watchi.." " Woman, how am I to keep you safe when you do not follow my instruction !" " Chastised, my lower lip protrudes slightly. " " Stop pulling faces Sansa, this is serious ", he thunders.

My eyes widen and real tears threaten to spill. " We return to Quarth ", he says in no uncertain terms. He gathers the remaining spears strewn about and bundles them together and gains Halcion's back without another word.

We land the terrace and inform the groomsman we may leave quickly, keeping the dragons at the palace instead of releasing them. We go to find the others, our proof of this weapon and it's ability to gain the heights.

We find our cohorts, heads bent to maps of Westeros. Dany's smile falls from her face as Sandor produces and unceremoniously drops the spears on the tables. Two are spears of no particular description. One however is metal not only at it's tips but completely made of it. It is heavy, heavier than Sandor's Bane.

" A dragon slayer it would seem ', says Tyrion. " Made of steel and more of a javelin in shape ", he finishes. " Of what height were you at, by your estimation ?" The query comes from behind me as Maester Obryrt shuffles up to the table. A young man with no chain attends him. His face is fleshy, his cheeks droop as if he was once round and lost much weight. A woman with a babe in her arms stands behind him, her eyes wide and frightened.

" Tyrion's eyes are just as wide as he waddles up to the young man and says, " Samwell Tarly, are you not far from your post unless I misremember." " No my Lord, far I am from the Wall and friends and..." " Jon ", I nearly shriek. I draw mine blade to remove his deserter's head when Sandor stays my hand. " Let us hear his words, wife. "

" Y-y-your b-brother se-se-sent me t-t-t-to.." " Sent you for what purpose ", I spit. " To to tt-take Maester..." To take Maester Aemon from the wall and away from Melissandre's grasp." " She feels she needs the blood royal to finish some arcane spell or another ", says Syrio. " Which is why the babe and Wilding are with him as well."

" Maester Aemon, where is he ", asks Tyrion ?

" He, he died on the way t-t-to Oldt-t-t-town." " I was t-t-to t-t-take Gilly and t-t-the Prince to Hor..." " Prince, what Prince ", from Dany and myself ? " The Wilding Prince." " Well what is his name then ? "

" We free folk do not name our children until they reach two years ", says Gilly quietly. " Why ", from Dany and myself. " Because life is hard for them beyond the Wall ", says Samwell defiantly as he places himself between the Wilding and myself.

I arch a brow ready with a retort, when I see this man is not surly, just protective of his friend. I compose myself and say, " The silver and Northern Queens bid thee welcome to our home across the sea, feel safety and comfort, Samwell Tarly, Gilly from beyond the Wall and young one. "

T-t-thank you Lady Star...Clegane ", says Samwell as he eyes Sandor. " Your Grace, shall you address my Lady wife and Queen. "

He cocks his head to the side and his eyes widen and says...


	44. Chapter XLIV The Wind it Does Blow

_In this Chapter you will find several **hints **for those of you who have chosen to participate in the prize quest. If you are a reader of the book series or you listen carefully in season II of GoT, you know what one **item** is. However in **this** chapter 6 of the 7 objects you must find/figure out is named or alluded to, combined with 1 more object/animal/mineral/element **create** the actual **object **you must name. GRRM's,** " A Clash of Kings "** will lead the way and give you your answer to the first item. The 1st one to figure it, you're going to become **part** of this story as well. So, to be clear, you that have chosen to play the Game, must name an Object and an Item. The 1st **Item** is named in the book and the series. The **Object** will be named and or alluded to in **future** chapter(s). Best of luck, Readers !_

" You're the She~Wolf ! " At mention of that name Gilly steps from behind Samwell and sings a verse, " In days long past through winters spell I brought my voice to sing high thee praise, Oh, dark night that cov'erd the land of brave men's folly who's hopes I raise... "

" Of hearth and home and family, Of life and death in the North, North, North ", finishes Sansa.

" How came you to know of our song ", asks Gilly ?! " Your song ", says Sansa ? " My Lady mother sang that to me and all my siblings, it is a song of years ago, a lullaby to calm us. "

" Lullaby is it, it is a song of doom for those beyond the wall, your _Grace ", _says Gilly, with disdain.

" When the wee one has the key, all our time beyond saves thee, of Dragons breath that sets us free, to travel down the rocky skree , Of hearth and home and family, Of life and death in the North, North, North ", sings Sansa.

" How do you get doom from what sounds like redemption to my ears ", from Tyrion.

" Dragon fire will save us, m'Lord. "

" Dragon's breath could be construed as such but could it not also mean an edict from my Lady wife and Queen, could it not ? "

Dany and I share a knowing look and Dany says, " By my right as Queen of Quarth and soon to be Southern Westeros I will grant lands to all who fight for our cause ", and she looks to me. " By my right as Northern Queen do I mirror the sister of my hearts sentiment, all Wildings who fight for our cause will I too grant lands in the Northern realm."

" Land of our own...Unheard of among the free folk." " I was t-t-t-o t-t-t-ake..." " Where were you to take Gilly and the babe then ", from Sandor ? " T-t-o horn Hill, the Tarly seat. " " And why are you here then ?"

" I received a raven from Maester Aemon, informing of his intent to speak with our Queen, that he should offer her council and advice on Dragon lore." " I took it upon myself to waylay young Samwell and his charge and bring them here, where is some measure of safety ", says our Maester.

" Does that not seem as though you are meddling and un-Maester like ? " " We serve the household to which we are assigned and in my case it was a House of Westeros who's minor Lord lived abroad. " " Upon his death I stayed in Quarth and when the Mother of Dragon's came here I felt it my duty to serve her and her House."

" How many Wildings gathered beyond the wall ? " " More than I could count, it took nearly two full days for us to cross the the last valley closest to that wall from the time the first Wilding crossed until the last. "

Tyrion works the numbers in his head and says, " That is anywhere from seventy to one-hundred-thousand more, if at least half are men of fighting age and _IF, _we can convince them to join in the coming wars. " " You could have up to three quarters of their numbers, you forget the spear wives, m'Lord." Tyrion cheeks flame in embarrassment at being verbally chastised from Gilly.

" Before you were waylaid Samwell, what was your intent ?" " I was to go to the Citidel to forge my chain and return to the Wall." " So you shall but not until it is safe for you to do so, I mislike some of the things that have come to pass ", from Tyrion, " Until such time, you will take instruction from Maester Lorwren. "

" Yes, my Lo...Your Grace ", from Samwell, his eyes wide and lip trembling.

Sandor's eyes narrow, he smells weakness but holds his tongue. " Is it true you slew a White Walker, young Samwell ", asks Tyrion ? " Yes I did, it was accidental..."

I now recognize him as the young fat man in my dream, only he's no longer fat. I see disgust on Sandor's face as Samwell admits his slaying of a White Walker, I'm silently hoping he he doesn't admit to being a craven as well. His eyes though deeply set in his pasty, flaccid face they are wide open and dart from person to person. I wonder to myself how such a terrified person could slay a glow eyed daemon, he looks afraid of his very shadow.

The Dothraki look at Samwell with a glint in their eye, I do not like the looks they give him, they too smell weakness in him. I walk to Samwell and loop my arm through his and place my other around Gilly, who flinches but says nothing and bid them walk with me.

I am hoping my husband will follow with a plaintive look in my eye, he acknowledges and I feel more than hear him close behind. We gain our rooms and enter our solar and ask them if they would be comfortable here or elsewhere.

" We are grateful for your kindness, your Graces', where you see fit to place us would be honored." I notice Samwell did not stutter once.

" Samwell is too long, would you object to being called Sam ? " " No, your Grace, your Lord brother...I-i-i- mean your half-br..." " Jon is my brother, Sam. "

Relief seems to flood his face and he released a pent up breath. We show him the privy and balcony. The are introduced to Ned and Sam says, " I am sorry for the murder of your father, your Grace, I am glad also you have a man worthy of you. "

Sandor's eyes widen and I am at a loss for words. He looks from Sandor to myself and back to Sandor again. " It is obvious he cares much for you and I hope I have not caused offense by saying so ", says Sam shyly.

" Gilly, what prompted you to sing a verse ? " " The seer from my clan said I should sing for the She~Wolf." " For what reason ? " " That she and her sister would set us free."

In another part of the of the palace Tyrion's nose is in an ancient book. His eyes scan the pages as he carefully turns them. He pauses and squints his eyes at a passage written there...

" The Brightening Saga "

...was hidden in the vast frozen wastes, where no man may discover it. Legend and Lore says that the map to it's location isn't really a map but a series of riddles...many miracles are attributed to this...device must be...in it's entirety...would wield...No man may...

I mutter a curse at the age of the text and the faded ink. I scan a few more pages and my eyebrows start in surprise.

...the first riddle...In days...we bring...Praise, ...over'd...ave men's fo...The rest is time faded but I can fill the gaps. I must needs question Gilly and Sansa about this lullaby.

I am the Mother of Dragons. When the Wilding woman started with her song and the sister of my heart sang the second verse but not the third...I must speak with Sansa and Gilly, _now_.

As I walk towards my rooms I see my husband's small form and his face splits into a grin as he grasps my hand and places a gentle kiss on my fingertips. " I was just going to pay Sansa, Sandor and Gilly a visit, wife, would you care to join me ? " " I laugh a little and say, I was on my way there myself, husband. "

Sansa opens the door to welcome us in, small Ned in his father's arms as he sings softly to him. A talent I had no idea he possessed. I walk to the big man and Sandor thrusts Ned in my arms and stalks off a scowl on his face, it is then another knock on the door produces Souzahn.

Dany and Sansa's head is bent in conversation and the two of them go to Gilly and the babe and the three women talk animatedly. Gilly begins to sing the strains of the song and Sansa joins her, then when the second chorus is sung, my wife continues with, " Lead them far and away, lead them where the Dragons play, lead them safely where they shall lay, Lead the fight and show the way." All three women sing the chorus with Souzahn's high pure notes heard too.

Sandor comes back to join us and removes now sleeping Ned from my arms and walks to the bedchamber undoubtedly to lay him in his crib. He returns to join us and I say, " How many have you heard of The Brightening Saga ? "

" It is the myth of a weapon or tool of power is it not ", from Sansa ? " I was reading an ancient text and the song you women were singing was written there or partially at least ", Tyrion says and adds, " We must needs find out what, " _It_ ", is and more importantly what purpose it serves. "

" It is a tool of learning or weapon of destruction , depending on whom you ask, only Maesters who wish to forge a link of Valyrian Steel are even aware of it's existence or potential ", from Maester Lorwren. " " We know only that if it truly exists it requires seven parts, all of which were supposedly hidden the world over, only two of which were hidden in Westeros. "

Gilly asks timidly whether it is true about the dragons and Sam's eyes widen to her query. " It is true, Gilly, would you like to see them ?" Sandor, Tyrion, Dany, Souzahn and myself are geared in our riding garb and as the bells chime for Riders to assemble we are joined by Ser Barriston. We all walk as a group to the wide terrace that acts like like a temporary Aerie for our winged mounts.

Drogon, Dany's big black bull dragon awaits his mistress as does my Summer and Tyrion's Wrath. " Halcion ", " Vengeance " and Souzahn's mount, "Sand " have yet to be called. " Viserion " and " Rhaegal ", soar in lazy circles above us.

Gilly and Sam's eyes near start from their heads as, Drogon , the dominant male bellows and let's lose a gout of flame from his maw at Dany's command.

Drogon hops down off his perch to land on the terrace itself, duo saddles are on his and Wrath's shoulders. Gilly hops on without question, behind Dany, Sam on the other hand starts to back away only to bump into the chest of Sandor, who picks him up bodily and deposits him behind Tyrion. Before he can jup down Tyrion nudges Wrath to flight followed by Dany and Gilly on Drogon.

I gain my seat atop Summer and we to take to the sky. I see Halcion and and Vengeance and a smaller dot that must be Sand. Those without passengers run through our drills while Dany and Tyrion conduct a sedate, sight-seeing tour above Quarth.

I see small Souzahn on Sand and she waves with a wide smile, I am just thinking you should keep your mouth shut when suddenly she hunches over and grabs her throat and kicks, sending Sand into dives and banks in an unsteady, wobbling flight, vomit covers her shift when we swoop to her side.

I veer to her and she tears stream her face as our dragons are nearly wing-tip to wing-tip. Suddenly a shadow is above us and it is Sandor who sends Halcion into a dive at Sand and leaps from Halcion to Sand and to land behind Souzahn. He takes the reigns and changes course back to the palace with Halcion flying next to Sand.

I land on the terrace to rush to Souzahn's side and am confused because Sandor is laughing so hard he's holding his belly. My inquiry directed with my eyes is answered by Sandor, who says between laughter and tears that, " She swallowed a bug which she thought disgusting and made herself sick. "

" That is all fine and well husband, however, the next time you leap from dragon to dragon I would appreciate it if you could do it while I am not there to see it. " His shoulders slump slightly and under his breath I hear, " But it was over water ", in a dejected tone.

I think to myself I can not wait for our son to grow up and wonder what nonsense he too will attempt. I go to him and wrap my arms around his waist and nestle into his chest to say, " Our life together has just begun, husband and I wish to have Winterfell's halls and courtyards filled with the laughter of our children. " " Would be much hard to do if I lose you, Sandor. "

" I would not expect you to never take another husband should I fall, Sansa. " " I would see that you are protected and looked after and though it nearly breaks my heart to say so, loved as well." " I need not another man to protect me, husband you and Barriston and all our seasoned warriors have seen to it that I am properly trained to defend myself and if needs be our children. " " That and the fact we have dragons ", I state...


	45. Chapter XLV Anxious Moments

It is several days later when a raven arrives. We are informed the force we have sent to Westeros sights land and will gain the place Lord Davos had instructed them to meet in two days. It is imperative that they adhere to his instructions, lest the ships be lost in the hazardous water they now ply.

After the evening meal when we gather, to plan, advise and say our fare thee wells. Tyrion, Sam and Maester Lorwren have been pouring over text and scrolls till long hours into the night. There are vague references and innuendos of the saga but nothing more until Sam comes across a reference book of arcane knowledge and mythos.

Sam says," Be it weapon or tool depends upon the heart and mettle of the wielder. " " We must find the unnamed piece, combine it with six more, objects/items, I am unsure of this wording so it might mean people or creatures or a potato for all we know, before the power may be brought forth. " " This text is written in multiple languages, as if parts of it were written by different hands. "

" Because it more than likely was, we could possibly cross-reference this information if we had free reign in the Citadel's vaults holding ancient scrolls and books but that is unlikely at this juncture ", says the Maester, dryly.

" It appears also that some text is written in blood ", as Tyrion peers on the page at, " Ink ", a rusty brown in color. Sam blanches slightly and snatches his fingertips from the book. " Do not be afraid Samwell, it's not as if will bite you and the writer is long dead to be sure..."

Dany and Barriston prepare for the first strike as I prepare to rule. Sandor, Tyrion and Syrio will advise and guide me as we too prepare to rally and lead the bulk of our troops to Westeros, after repelling the Whores impending attack.. Now is it nothing but a waiting game. We wait for news from the Twins, we wait for the Whores forces to take to water, we wait...

As the sky lightens towards a new day Barriston and the sister of my heart prepare for their flight across the Narrow Sea and back to our homeland. We await them on the terrace as an Unsullied places his lips to the horn of calling and plays the notes for Drogon, followed by those for Vengeance.

I have brought a heavy cloak for Dany, it is much colder where she goes. It is grey with her and Tyrion's united sigil on it's back. Ser Barriston is in his full armor a food sack draped from his shoulders. Dany and Tyrion walk towards us hand in hand. She kneels to kiss Tyrion and rises to hug Ned and Sandor, who seems almost fearful of hugging her back, she is smaller than I and seems so fragile at times. She looks to me and wraps her arms about me.

Viserion and Rhaegal already soar above us. They too will fly to Westeros, as Dany and myself may command them, we have not yet attempted to see if I may ride either of them. I think I would very much like to see the look on old Walder's face as he and his men see get a look at a dragon in the skies of Westeros, something that hasn't been seen for one hundred and fifty years.

The riders gain their mounts and without a backward glance take to the skies, we all stand for long minutes until our friends are nothing but small specks in the sky. The palace seems empty without Dany, I think with more than a touch of sadness.

I must turn my mind to the tasks at hand, that what much be done. When the time comes for us to depart we will do so without delay. I am anxious to face our foes.

Everyone with a skill is used in preparation, be it sewing, or weapons, wood workers, cooks, potters, animal husbandry, weavers, healers and yes, even whores. They will payed in silver as everyone else to keep the troops occupied. Rape and molestation is not tolerated in Quarth under the Silver Queen, nor will it be tolerated by me in the North. The troops are informed what will happen should they stray from this path.

I cannot gainsay them, the whores that is, they choose their lot in some instances, as slavery is abolished in Quarth, for the nonce, as it has been in Westeros for long years. It saddens me that some are forced into this, " Work ", a loss of a husband or son(s) have made whores out of widows and mothers.

Sandor and I had a candid talk about this subject last night. " Why do they sell themselves, I wonder ? " " Because they have no skill but perhaps mending or the making clothing, vegetable growing or cooking, true some can weave or work clay but very few read or can work their numbers ", says Sandor. " I mean no offense but fucking is one thing that all women can do, that can be bartered. "

" They cannot even sign their names ", I ask incredulously ? " Wife, why would they, they will not be sending a raven to anyone and if they did, what would they say ? " " The well is dry, the price of grain is dismal, no they would not have to, very few travel more than five miles from where they were born. " " They are simple folk, the small folk, they have no need of books or ledgers. " " Very few outside of large cities have ever seen a gold stag, they deal in trade or coppers and silver coin. "

" And because of that they will never rise above their station, to remain small folk and uneducated, it sits not well with me, Sandor. " He gives me a crooked smile and says, " Undoubtedly you will bring about change, my wife. " "

" All my people will learn their letters and numbers, husband. " He wraps his arms about me to say, " I have no doubt they will, little bird. "

I look back over my life and realize with sadness and no small measure of guilt how truly fortunate I have been. It could be my head atop a pike or I could have been spirited to a brothel to end my days being mounted by nameless men instead of enjoying the safety and care my Prince wraps me in.

I have lost Arry to her destiny to gain another sister in Dany. A Lannister, my crazed aunt almost killed is one of my best friends. A man who terrified so many and who repulsed me is now my husband and father to my children, his seed has taken root and new life swells within me. I wonder if we will be blessed with another strong boy or a daughter, to melt her father's heart.

My belly has a slight bump to it now, Sandor rubs it when we are alone and murmurs his greetings, the babe is too small to be felt but I anticipate with a smile the time when the baby will respond to Sandor's voice. I had an accident today in the yard while we practiced. I was too slow for a parry and a quarter staff thumped me on my unarmored belly. It was hard enough to wind me but not damage me.

You would not have known it by Sandor's reaction, which was swift and harsh. He picked the youth up by his throat and threw him some feet, to land in a tangle of limbs. I think had I not stopped him, he would have seriously injured if not killed him. I interceded only to have Sandor explain to me in no uncertain terms that, " You have armor for a reason, wife, use it ! "

With that he scoops me up and off we go to see Maester Lorwren to ascertain whether I was hurt or not, my words having no effect on him when I said I was uninjured. On the way I tell him I am capable of walking and what will the men think. To which he replies, " Maester Lorwren will determine how well you are or not and I do not give two shats what the men think when it comes to your safety and that of our child's. " I see by the set of his jaw and know that any argument I put forth will be met on deaf ears and resign myself to being carted as a sack of vegetables to see the Maester.

After being pronounced fit by Lorwren and after narrowing my eyes at Sandor after the Maester's examination I walk, ( under my own volition ) and spin so fast to the door that my braid slaps Sandor in his face to his astonishment and march out of said door. I am again scooped up and though I fight and writhe I cannot break free.

After we gain our rooms he deposits me in a chair and and brings his most ferocious of voices to bare. "_ You, _will remember your state, wife ! " " I will not lose you to folly. " " _Folly, _is it ?! " " I have trained hard for months, to be worthy of _you_, my son, the North, my father's, mother's and brothers memory _and_ my crown ! "

" Defend yourself, _Ser_ ! " And I draw my blade. Sandor looks at me and cocks his brow, " As my Queen commands. " Is all his says as he slides Bane from it's scabbard. I come at him with fury and speed and the smirk on his face is replaced by small beads of sweat. I am no match for him I know this but I am angry and all the past year of practice with him on the road and the many months here in Quarth have paid off. He misinterprets my stance and lunges to edge into my blade and draws his blood.

I am aghast but before I can utter a word of sorrow or apology I am disarmed before I know what is happening and once again scooped up to be deposited unceremoniously in the nearest chair with Sandor sitting on my quickly numbing legs. He does not spare me his full weight as in our times of passion.

There is a knock on our doors and instead of rising he booms, " Enter. "

I love to ride my Wrath, however it makes my ass hurt I think as I try to rub circulation into my backside while walking to Sansa and Sandor's rooms. I wish to speak with Clegane about promoting some soldiers then deciding on which units to assign them to command.

I rap on their doors to here Clegane roar, " Enter. " So I do to be greeted by the sight of Sandor sitting in a chair, however, something is amiss, there are too many legs and arms and only one head, his.

" What is it you want, Lannister ? " " To speak with you about troops. " " So speak ", he barks. " All right then, where is Sansa ? " " Her whereabouts do not concern you, _Prince Tyrion_, we are having a difference of opinion, nothing more. " " Why is it when you say my name it comes out sounding like , " You dung heap ", rather than, " Tyrion ? "

Sandor's lips purse and twitch and finally he relents and lets out a loud bray of laughter, " I am glad you find me entertaining " I add drolly. As if on cue a light rap on the door and Penny my former acting partner peers in. She has made herself scarce these past months but has been busy learning the healers trade. She is here to keep Sansa apprised of any needs of the healers before we depart Quarth.

Sandor relents and rises releasing poor Sansa from the prison of his large ass and she looks flushed but unharmed. The look she gives Sandor however would shrink my heart and manhood were it directed at me. She says not a word but leaves the room to return with a small Maester's kit and attends a small cut on Sandor's forearm.

Shall I stir the pot I think to myself, why yes my, " Self ", answers, lest they forget you were once, " the Imp " " So I see Sandor was punishing you for drawing his blood, your Grace. " " Well done, Clegane, well done ! " " You will not raise us to anger, Imp, tis true my husband did say he would sit upon me should I ever wound him and draw his blood. "

" Well it is no fun baiting either of you if neither will rise to the bait. " Sandor smiles his crooked smile and I know all is forgiven, for both Tyrion and I.

" So what is this about troops ? " " We will be assigning unit leaders to troops, Clegane I think Aedym should be raised to leader as should Gagnae and Lightsteps. " " Agreed, Sansa, what say you of this ? " " I agree and I think Lonii should be a leader in a swordmain unit as well. "

" Both my Lord husband and Tyrion's eyebrows crawl their foreheads. " " Do either of you have a problem with this ? " " No ", they both answer. " She is a capable fighter and we do not have the luxury of not using every skilled warrior available to us. "

I frown slightly, " Men", I think to myself, their pride disallows them much, that or vanity. I will use every weapon available to me and I know first hand her skill and ferocity. I wish I had ten-thousand more just like her.

A runner comes to us and hands me a scribbled message. I unfurl it to read. " They come. "

" Go to Syrio and tell him it has begun and bring in our captains as well." " Yes, your Grace ", and off he went, the sound of his bare feet slapping on the marble.

I hand the message to Sandor who reads it and passes it to Tyrion. " So it begins, excellent, this will keep us occupied while my Queen is away ", says Tyrion absently.

I say a silent prayer to the old Gods of my father, that I will have the strength to endure, that I will not falter.

As if sensing my turmoil it is Tyrion who grasps my hand in his. " You were born to lead, Sansa, do not pay attention to naysayers or foolish men. " " When all is said and done you will sit Winterfell and most likely have a Keep full of pups, you will rule with justice and wisdom. " " Never forget what your Dog has taught you and how truly fortunate you are to have him. "

With that he takes his leave of us to put his nose in a book or scroll, taking Penny with him before she even had a chance to speak.

Sandor comes to me, Ned nestled against his chest, his large blue eyes follow Tyrion's form as he leaves us. Sandor pulls me to him and kisses me fiercely, his tongue dancing with mine own. I am hungry I think but not for any food. We turn towards the open doors of the terrace, my arm about his waist with Ned pointing his chubby fingers towards the sky...


	46. Chapter XLVI The Whore

With Ned down for the night and Penny minding him, Sandor and I meet the others at our table. Tyrion takes a seat and when offered wine he begs off and requests water. Syrio sit's in animated conversation with on of the Khals and Souzahn's smiles broadly as we take our seats.

The Khals are, ( In order of age ), Demag, Olanigo, Megeto and Sunoga. If they are irritated that a female leads they do not show it. Their dark eyes ever watchful take in everything without settling on anyone thing unless spoken to.

We peruse the maps and formulate battle plans with multiple scenarios involved and suggested, everyone having a say. We will rely heavily on the dragons to repel the Whores attack, keeping in mind Dany's wish that they not be allowed too close to Quarth's shores.

I have decided two thirds of our projectile weapons, trebuchets will be placed port side due to the narrowing of the streets there. Catapults will be used desert side because there is ample space there. Souzahn will stay within the city, atop Sand to offer support. We will take as many active fighters out of the fray via surrender or death.

I direct that the bulk of our fighters will be inside the walls of Quarth with a small forces of Dothraki and Unsullied outside the walls to conduct hit and run stealth raids. The Khals devise their own battle plans to be a supplement to our troops, should the need arise.

The ships took one-thousand Unsullied to meet Dany in Westeros. Foregoing their ages old tradition of being solely foot soldiers they have been training on horseback for many months. Though they are more comfortable on foot at least two thirds have become proficient on horseback.

If we add their numbers to our original figure of eleven-thousand fit to fight and the five thousand Dothraki that join us inside the city and we have twenty-two thousand within.

Sandor leans to me and says, " We will not need so many, little bird, Tyrion and I will take care of the Whores fleet at sea ", he says with a wink and a crooked grin.

It is that thought that takes me as I once again peruse more maps. My eye catches something peaking from beneath yet another pile of scrolls. I withdraw it slowly and see it is a map of tunnels. To where ?

" Syrio, do you know from where these lead ? " He walks over and says, " Yes, these are falsified documents. "

" I had replaced the actual maps with these, in the event that we were attacked from beneath. "

" And where do these tunnels lead ? "

For once Syrio gives a smile that carries none of his usual mirth. His eyes are calm but lifeless as he utters,

" They lead to the dark, to seven hells and death, your Grace. "

And so our days and nights progressed, planning, discussing and anticipating the Whore's attack.

They are now four days from our shores and as we amble off to our own rooms my last sight is Tyrion, forlorn with bowed head as he too goes to the rooms Dany and he share. Only solo, his Queen and wife far from the warmth and safety of Quarth.

It is our last night together before Tyrion and my Prince take to the skies to repel the Whore's ships, we must turn them or destroy them I am thinking as Sandor stands, holding a newly awoken Ned who rubs his sleepy eyes. As brutal as he can be he is ever gentle with our child and myself. He nuzzles him and Ned wraps his arms about his father's neck to give him childs kisses.

It is then there is a knock on our door.

" Lord Davos approaches and asks permission to proceed to our port."

Sandor hands Ned to Penny and we both head back to our meeting place that is the table. Tyrion, the Khals and Syrio present as well. As we take our seats Maester Lorwren, Sam and Gilly join us.

" Send a raven and grant him passage ", I instruct to the Maester. I look to Strongback and give him a nod and off he goes to prepare the walls in case Lord Davos was unable to turn his fleet to our cause. The Khal's leave as well to rally the Khalasars. I instruct also that all remaining dragons be summoned. I would see this Armada from the relative safety of the skies.

Sleepy Souzahn joins us and I instruct her to remain, that she and Syrio will maintain a presence here in the Palace.

We regroup on the terrace, our dragons saddled and readied. We take to our mounts and then to the inky black of the night skies, sprinkled with winking lights that are the spray of stars that beckon with distant promise.

It takes us a few minutes to see the fleet. It is no where two-thousand by my estimation. I swoop down silently to Davos' ship as does Sandor, who nods to tell me it is him as I have never set eyes upon him. We go abrest of his ship and hover.

" Your Grace ", he shouts, " We have much to discuss this night and time is not in our favor. " " Your ship alone will dock, all others will hold fast in the inlet ", I shout above the beating of Summer's mighty wings. " Agreed ", from Davos.

I nod sharply as we swing towards port, I saw that his ship has taken battle damage. It's deck scarred and blackened, hobbled together on it's side. I wonder what had befallen him and his. We shall soon find out.

I land and see Tyrion has beaten me back to the terrace, Souzahn mounts Sand and her, Tyrion and Sandor circle us while Lord Davo's ship gains our port, his remaining ships hold fast to the inlet as per instructions.

Within a half hour a runner approaches to inform us the Onion Lord comes. Thank goodness, my backside is near numb from this marble monstrosity of a bench I now sit, it is no wonder Dany sits a pillow when upon it.

A man enters the throne room, tall, close cropped grey hair and beard. his hands are gloved and a filthy bandage is wrapped about his head.

He bows deeply and says, " I am Davos Seaworth, your Grace. "

" Be welcome Lord Davos , accept the comfort and safety of Quarth in the name of the Silver Queen, Danaerys Targaeryan~Lannister. " At the name Lannister Seaworth could not contain his shock, there being only one Lannister not accounted for and it did not take him long to figure out which one took Dany as his Lady wife.

" Which makes you the She~Wolf and Northern Queen ? " " I am, by some called the She~Wolf, I am Sansa Stark~Clegane. "

" So it is true, the Hound is now your Lord and husband ? " " It is true, Sandor Clegane is my Prince consort and husband, father to my children and my strong right arm of justice, yes. "

" You truly mean to take Westeros and Winterfell ? " " I _will _retake Winterfell, I _will _help the Silver Queen retake the Iron Throne. "

" Your Grace, may I ask you a personal question ? " " You may. "

" How old are you ? "

The question took me by surprise. " I am nearing sixteen name days. "

" Are all women from the North as strong as you ? " I reckoned back to a conversation Sandor and I had many months ago, when we first came to Quarth and Tyrion joined us. A conversation about how to determine whether a person was lying to you.

Lord Davos looked me in the eye, he did not falter or stutter or fidgit.

" I am as I was born, Lord Davos, all born of the North have a certain degree of steel within. " " Though usually the women are not called to bring it to bare in the martial sense. "

" I will admit I was skeptical when I first heard that dragons had been reborn, even more skeptical that two Queens rose in Quarth and they were of young years. " " I can see by the look in your eyes you are strong of conviction, tell me She~Wolf, how many men have _you,_ yourself killed ? "

" I beheaded my first man several months ago, he attacked me in the practice yard, I took his life. " " I stabbed another but Stranger killed him. "

" Ah, your Lord husband's bedeviled mount."

" You know the name of my husband's horse ? "

" Your Grace, there is not a Lord, Knight or squire who does not know of your husband, his battle prowess and his destrier . "

" I would formally pledge my life, sword, lands, ships and men to your cause and that of the Silver Queen, Danaerys."

I look into his eyes and before I can utter a word he says, " You remind me much of your Lady mother just now. "

" You knew my mother ? " " We had the occasion to speak a time or two at wedding feasts. " " I am sorry for the loss of your mother and King, your Grace, never in all my years has such a savage and dishonorable thing been done."

" The betrayers will pay for their underhandedness and murder, that I promise you."

" Of that I have no doubt, I believe your Lord father would be proud of you ." " Thank you, Lord Davos, though I fear my mother would be mortified at my garb let alone my ability to wield the weapons I carry. " " Not if it kept you alive, your Grace ", says Davos soflty.

It is then that Tyrion enters and takes a place beside me. I look at him questioningly and he says, " Sandor will be here shortly, your Grace. " To lord Davos he says, " Lord Davos, what say you on the state of your fleet ? "

" Lord Tyrion, when it was made known that our intent was join the Queens in Quarth we battled among our own. I lost a third of the fleet in the ensuing battle to hold steadfast my intent to join my forces to yours. "

" My sister the Whore will exact a heavy toll on you lord Davos. " " Yes, which is why my wife and remaining son are spirited safely away. " " Every man I could bring is here if he survived the sea battle against those loyal to Cersei. "

" We salvaged what we could for the remaining hulks that did not sink to repair our own. " " How many spies do you think are still among you ? " " Undoubtedly a few at least, we lost almost six-hundred ships and I am happy to say some Lannister men as well as some Frey's as well as a few Tyrell men for good measure. "

" How many are truly seaworthy, Lord Davos ? " " Nearly all, much cosmetic damage a few days in port will help to mend any pressing issues with the few that need it. "

" Very well ", I say, " Send the ships most in need of repair to port, I am anxious I admit to have so many running freely in Quarth, though." When Tyrio suggests that whores be sent to the boats and mead and wine as well as fresh food stuffs I concur and instruct it to be done.

It is then that Sandor strides in. His long legs closing the gap quickly. He nods curtly to Lord Davos and ascends the stairs to my torture device of a bench.

Lord Tyrion nods to Sandor and then says, " This Lord and your Grace is tiresome, can we not just address ourselves by our given names ? " We all agree to the matter and decide it best to introduce him to Maester Lorwren and to clean and dress his wounds.

As we sit our table Tyrion, Maester Lorwren and Sandor pepper him with questions on Cersei's mindset, troop movement and who's hand now guides Cersei and her madness. We learn much in a short time. Margaery has wed Tommen and the little King has a mind of his own, though not in the sadistic bend of his late, elder brother, the Bastard.

We know Mace Tyrell will take Margaery in hand and have her ply Tommen who appears to have developed a crush on his Queen and is very malleable when it comes to suggestions of his Lady wife.

" That much is evident as the Whore is now in the Sept under lock and key or so we have been told. "

It is more than I can bear and I giggle escapes me as I think of that Whore imprisoned, no fine dinners and wine for her, thin gruel and stale bread to be washed down with rank water.

Tyrion's brow arches and he scratches the scarred flesh of the remnants of his ruined nose. " Tell me Davos, what is the mind set of those that sail for us in the remaining armada? "

" They are mostly made up of Lannister, Bolton, Frey and Tyrell men. " " We have little hope of turning the Tyrell's as there Bitch sits the Iron Throne for all intents and purposes. "

We need those ships I think, we need to turn them or kill them, hard to roast the soldiers without destroying the boat carrying them.

" I think we should make several examples of ships and crews ", I say to no one in particular. " Agreed ", as one the reply.

I look to my Sandor and we decide to take our leave. Davos is shown to his rooms and tended to while we all drift away to our own rooms. I know on the morrow Sandor and Tyrion will go to war leaving Souzahn and I to mind the city. I wish we would hear something from Westeros and soon.

On our way to our rooms, Ellsbeth from the Hales section of Quarth approaches, she is a new made leader of a unit of soldiers. She too was from a honored family, once. Her father a canny old war dog in his own right and though a minor hedge knight, he and his sons were brave and honorable none the less. He must have anticipated war was on the wind. He packed up his Lady wife and daughter and sent them abroad to Quarth. He was my Lord father's bannerman. His son's both chose the Warrior's way. His youngest was in my father's household guards and was slain by the Gold Cloaks when my father was taken into custody. He and His eldest son rode with my brother Robb, their whereabouts or if they yet live unknown to her.

She is a quiet young woman but a fierce fighter. She is a welcome addition to our troop roster and I ask her if anything is amiss and she says no but asks my leave to question Davos to see if he has any word of her father or brother. Her eyes are bright and pleading. I tell her to go and find what she can, with that she offers a slight bow and turns quickly on her quest...


	47. Chapter XLVII Westeros

I am grateful for the heavy woolen cloak Sansa had given me. I wear the hose and fur lined boots she gave me as well. Westeros is not as I imagined it. We gained the land last night and met with our troops who came by boat. Lord Davos' men right where he said they would be. We bedded down for the day, Ser Barriston went hunting and bagged an Auroch and divided it between three dragons, Drogon always independent swooped from the night sky to take a riderless horse wandering the glen. When the night falls we will again take to the skies.

The day is cold, a crisp wind rides in from the North and pulls stray hairs into a dance about my face and shoulders. Barriston is ever alert, the only signs of life has been an occasional bit of smoke from distant cook fires and fewer still from small thatch roofed homes, those that still stand at least.

I have lost count of the clouds of crows that were disturbed by our presence even while the dragons were grounded. Interrupted from their ghoulish feasting of the flesh of the fallen. How many men lie in decay, never to return to their families.

The sun slides to the horizon and night reaches dark tendrils to wrestle the last of the fading light into submission. I brush off my breeches and stretch, the dragons ranging their sinuous necks and flapping mighty wings in preparation of our departure.

Barriston approaches and says, " Your Grace, we should be within sight of the Twins in less than two hours, how shall we proceed ? "

" I would prefer to gain their undivided attention and do so quickly. "

" As you wish, I believe an assault on the Westernmost tower would be in order as Old Walder complains long and loudly that it be draftier. "

" Westermost tower it is then, what of the men entrenched ?

" They will see stone melt and nightmare brought to life, they will either submit, then and there to your rule or burn. " " There is no middle ground, Danaerys. "

My lips purse and I nod slowly, I would spare what men I could, it will do me no good to rule heaps and miles of dead men, the bones pointing from the ground and empty eye sockets leering in accusation.

Our troops travel the Trident, I will not run them to ground before their first fight and they will not be needed until later in the game of thrones. They will fair better in the heat of King's Landing..I smirk silently as I think...Queen's Landing.

We will leave a small contingency at the Twins or what remains of them depending upon the stubbornness or stupidity of Old Walder. Some small part of me wishes him to be very stubborn, so I may bring his house down to the slag heap his dishonor has made of it.

My face crinkles as I realize that is not a good outcome, the GreatJon must be secured, to have his banner to ours would save countless Northern lives.

Barrisotn suggests we mount up and leave and follow the winding of the Trident and see how far our own have come, it would not do to take the Twins and be unable to hold them from lack of manpower. I will not have newly made turncoats guard that which I have won either.

I nod in agreement and we take to the skies, grateful for clear skies and a quarter moon. In a half hour we espy our ships, they are making a good speed, the pull of the oars hypnotic, silent they glide while oars slice into the murky water at this pace they too will as they round a bend before the long straightaway the wind picks up and fills the sails, the need for the oars now a moot point.

There is no light to be seen save the braziers that burn on deck, no cook fires peek from the forest. I guide Drogon low until he is abreast of the lead ship. I am mounted upon his broad back as I instruct him lower still and dip to the ship, where he lands only to retake the air as I dismount. I am greeted by a Dothraki and an Unsullied.

Barriston stays aloft with Vengeance.

We go below decks, the eyes of the Dothraki glint bright in the meager light, even the Unsullied appear to shift towards me though no smile graces the grim lines of their mouths.

I have rehearsed in my head what I am about to say.

" We go now, to draw first blood and take a small step to regain the Iron Throne. The outcome here and now will set the pace for the coming war. "

" I have faith in your abilities, we will be victorious. "

The gathered Dothraki nod in affirmation, the Unsullied beat a steady rhythm for spear butts against the wooden hull. It is then the watcher in the crows nest sends his message, there is a jam of sorts, ahead, a tangle of debris clogs the river.

Fearing a trap I regain the deck in time to see dragon fire incinerating the debris. It is manflesh, rotten, the smell slapping me like an open hand, sickening, cloying, settling in the depths of my pert nose, which crinkles slightly.

Barriston has Vengeance blow flame, the knot of limbs of horses, sheep, men, women and yes even children break away to drift in eddies, some to sink, the more buoyant spin in lazy circles. I feel the heat and wind as Drogon lands and I climb to his back and we rise.

Less than hour away from our target as planned we make for shore to unload horses and warriors. no one mounts their steeds preferring to walk them, quietly instead.

Barriston and I are high above our men and as they reach the last two hundred paces to the Towers that are cleared of timber. We see the fires of those outside the walls who are encamped. A striking of steel to flint behind a shield is our signal to begin our assault.

Without a word our dragons descend, the Dothraki and Unsullied astride their mounts sweep into the camp arahks swinging, the spears and short swords of the Unsullied making quick work of Old Walders first line of defense.

All four dragons release fire in trenches, they set the tents ablaze and day becomes night. We turn our attention to the westernmost tower,, the screams loud and keening but brief.

The tower falls in on itself by degrees, walls that have stood for a thousand years, soups and runs in molten rivers down the hillock on which it stood.

It is then a fire lights atop the remaining tower and a flag is raised, it is black and on it's fluttering expanse is the three headed Targaeryn dragon. A smile plays on my lips as I guide Drogon across the river, Barrsiton leads Vengeance, Rhaegal and Vyserion across the water as well.

I see a man with his mailed fist about the scrawny neck of an old man. " Walder Frey I presume ? "

" This be the traitor your Grace, he be the murderer of the Starks. "

The Unsullied and Dothraki have gained the second tower and eye the troops there with menace. We land and I take a deep breath, it smells of sulfur and...Victory.

The man atop the second tower approaches dragging Old Walder, his kinfolk, young and old alike are herded at spear point none to gently outside the keep.

" Where is the GreatJon ? " I ask without preamble.

" He is in the the fails safe, I kept him safe, I did no harm to him ", from Old Walder. He is slapped on his head by the man holding him. Blood trickles from his balding and age spotted head.

" Where is the key, old man ", says Barriston with unconcealed fury.

" I-I-I don't know, it turned up missing..", He flinches and ducks, expecting another cuff to his unprotected head.

Barriston directs a contingency of our men be led to this secreted place and to secure the second tower. It is then I ask the man's name, him who I saw atop the tower, him that has a fist curled around the old man's scrawny upper arm.

" I am Crenleton, my father served your household as a farrier, I was merely a page. " " We have waited long years for your return, your Grace."

A small smile upturns the corner of my mouth, my first subject, love emanates from his eyes. Now to contend with the Freys.

" Walder Frey, it is not my purview to decide your fate, I leave that to the Northern Queen."

The old mans eyes bulge and he bunches to launch a feeble attack, his bony fingers curled into claws and he coils to spring towards me only to be brought to heel by a savage jerk from Crenleton.

" However, it is my purview to lay waste to your line." With a nod from me the knot of Dothraki and Unsullied come forward and make quick, wet work of every man and woman from the Frey line. The children, in shock look on as their parents and elder siblings are kissed unto death by steel.

What remains are two dozen children from the ages of babes to those of twelve years. It pains me but I instruct all to be cared for until their sixteenth name day. They will then be branded upon their cheeks as traitors, that all will know their line and the sins of the father are truly visited upon the sons and daughters of Old Walder Frey.

He howls and stamps his gouty feet and mutters curses and rails against me and my line. But never once does he say, " Punish me and spare the children ", had he I would have perhaps banished them only.

And what of me, his voice taking on a whiney tone. " As I said it is not for me to decide but that of Sansa Stark~Clegane."

" Serves her right, a bitch married to a cur." And he laughs a high and broken sound tinged with madness and fear.

I stroke Drogon's chin, from his hide steam rolls of him in the chill Northern night. His eyes fairly glow as they scan the surrounding scene. I lead him to the corpses of the dead Freys and speak a word of command and they remains are engulfed in hellfire remembering the lessons that disease emanates from rotting flesh. Barriston and I have many mores remains to burn now that it is no secret a Queen has risen and with it her dragons.

As Sansa and I had agreed I will send Vyserion back to Quarth, he will span the Narrow Sea much quicker than any raven. I will attach a message to his saddle bag. And then my sister will join me and combine our troops, we march to King's Landing and to war in earnest.

I am grateful to be ensconced in a large feather bed. Old Walder's to be precise after of course the linens were changed. Though his old, sickly smell still lingers about the bed.

There is a firm knock at the door and it is Ser Barriston carrying a tray of food stuffs that he places on the bed. He informs me that long years ago Targaeryn sympathizers have placed themselves in strategic positions throughout Westeros. That even now as we speak ravens traverse the land bringing word to households that the Queen comes and hell follows her on leathery wings, the wings of dragons.

I t is also made know to me that the Frey's household guards were subdued or killed outright as soon as our presence was known. That the bulk of the en killed in the first tower were sworn to Lannister's, Tyrell's or Bolton's men and a few Northerners that were suspect.

I eat a little and then a little more. Barriston begs his leave to try and free the GreatJon as I sit quietly in the flickering light. He informed me also that our casualties were nonexistent with the exception of a Dothraki rider who's horse stumbled and he landed on his rider, breaking his leg. Our healers attended him and are confident he will heal well.

With that thought I rise and write my message to Sansa. It is short and direct, " Sister, We have taken the Twins though the Westernmost is now a steaming pool of stone, the Frey's have been dealt with excepting Old Walder. I go to where the GreatJon has been imprisoned. Dany."

I gather myself up and leave to be flanked by an escort Unsullied to the depths of the keep and to the GreatJon.

I see at the deepest part of the keep a rope secured to bars of a holding cell. I peer down a dank passage to see hanging braziers at regular intervals. We follow the rope through a warren of cramped and damp passages to end at a wall that is actually a doorway propped open by a large stone wedged into it's jamb.

Ser Barriston and Creleton both stand at an ornate wooden door. A small Dothraki has upended a bench and is working at a stone with a dagger.

" The door is wood is it not, can we not break it down ? " I ask the gathered men.

" No your Grace, it is wood over iron."

It is then a small slot opens and a pair of bright eyes appear, Barriston kneels down to be greeted by a booming voice, " Barriston the Bold ! " " Can you not release me ? "

" We have not the key I am afraid, Old Walder swears it is missing. " " Lying old bastard ", from the GreatJon, " Check up his arse, though I see not how it would fit with his head up yonder hole."

His eyes flit to me and he says, " So you must be the mother of Dragons, Danaerys Storm Born. " " I am, and come to claim that which is mine. "

" Sansa will be here shortly and with it hopefully the key to release you. "

" Sansa ?! " " By all the God's she lives ? "

" She lives and she is known..." " As the She!Wolf ", he finishes. " So it is true, two Queens have risen, of young years and ancient blood. "

" She is also a woman wedded and a mother as well."

" The Hound is her Lord husband is he not ? "

" He is all things to her, husband, confidant, friend and lover." " The sweet naive girl is no more, in her place is a warrior Queen. "

" They taunted me, first telling me Sansa was hunted down and killed, then that Arya was married to that bastard whelp of Ramsey then that she is married to Lord Robyn of the Vale. "

" Will you call your bannermen and join forces with Sansa and I, GreatJon ? "

" Aye, I will join my forces to yours I rather look forward to whetting my blade on the bones and armor of Lannister, Bolton and all those of that same ilk. "

I am glad I have not sent Vyserion to Quarth yet, Sansa will be glad to hear of this news...


	48. Chapter XLVIII First Strike

The sun rises following the night of my first victory in Westeros, clear and blindingly bright. My breath blows out clouds of steam and the men stamp their feet and stretch. We have added to our larder, Old Walder hoarded foodstuffs as well gold and jewels. The GreatJon spent the evening shoving gold coin and gems through his small slot.

He was grateful for bits of fruit brought from Quarth that we pushed through. Having only salted meats, dried and preserved apples, pears and cherries and grain..Grain to fill the remaining keep from top to bottom. Old Walder had hollowed the land beneath to create a larder. I think this will go far to feed our army and ease the suffering of those unhomed by this, " War of the Five Kings."

We learn also of Renly's demise/murder and the hunt for his supposed killer, a Lady Brienne of Tarth. A large and homely brute of a woman. We hear of Berric Dondarrion an his ability to recover from any wounding. Another alarming bit of news is the sightings of the Lady Stoneheart, reliable information is paramount in this time of war.

I smile to myself as I think now two Queens have joined the fray as well.

I had sent Vyserion home last night, with tidings of our first victory as well as confirming the GreatJon still lives and will join under our flags, she will get this, message in a nother day and a half. I tell her to be sure that Souzahn brings her key given to her by Bran. She will come and bring the bulk of our forces. Lord Davos' men patrol the Trident and stop any and all merchants whose goods are supplementing the enemy.

His men also keep a tight rein on commerce on the coast.

Barriston has put half the men to work clearing the dead to a central area to be put to dragon fire. He instructs a rough wooden fort be erected where once the Western tower stood. He wants the forest pushed back, he says for at least a quarter of a mile, so we will not be taken unaware as our enemy had.

In time I will see it done, in time. Right now I want the men rested for the most part, by now news has spread that the Twins have fallen and it will not be long before the Lannister's and Tyrell's answer our call to war.

I look to Barriston as he and some captains speak softly to each other. I wonder what is going through his mind at this time...

We have secured a victory for the Silver Queen, the first of many I hope. I did not think at my years I would be given a chance to serve a Targaeryn again and restore my tainted honor. I see only the best in my Queen and none of the madness that has afflicted her line. Though I am still unsure of her pairing with the dwarf I do know he loves her deeply.

Why shouldn't he ? She is beautiful and kind and just, all things a true Queen should be. She defends the weak and despite her claims of, " I am only a young girl ", I see an ancient wisdom in the depths of her violet eyes. I hope only I live long enough to see her produce an heir, to gain the wisdom that will make her a memorable monarch as well.

The Stark woman~child is a force to be reckoned with. In the cold blue of her eyes, her carriage and the way she takes to warfare is uncanny. Before all is said and done with this war the name of Stark will ring across the land and Lord Eddard Stark's memory will be cursed by the losers and sung high praise by the victors. I wonder if this will change the face of the land, that two women lead an army the size of which hasn't been seen in an age.

They cannot call them weak for they are each Riders of Dragons. By all the God's let me live long enough to see the Queens ensconced on their thrones, supported by and beloved by those they rule.

I chuckle to myself softly and think I am getting soft in my dotterage.

Dany approaches and loops her arm through mine and asks quietly, " And what Ser, is so amusing ?"

" Only the humour of an old man, your Grace."

She graces me with one of her smiles and says, " There is much life left in you, old man, I would see you train a proper Queen's Guard before you even think of leaving me for the long sleep. "

" Would that it were true my Queen."

The small folk are coming out of hiding and a few dozen of our fighting men are instructed to help rebuild some cottages that at least have walls remaining. Some Dothraki and Unsullied secret themselves in the surrounding wood aided by local woodsman and hunters.

Even if it is just a small part of Westeros, it will see new life.

We have gathered all the smallfolk to instruct them in basic self defence in small arms. Men who have only held steel in their hands in the form of a wood axe or hammer now hold battlecraft forged steel.

I watch with a small measure of satisfaction as they are drilled.

I hope for word from Quarth but know it will not arrive for at least three days.

I wonder what my sister Queen is doing and how she fairs.

I have sent two thousand ships back across the sea with only small crews, we will need the space to fill with our people on their return to Westeros...

With Lord Davos help and our supplies all the ships are made ready to repel the Whores fleet and to ferry our peoples to Westeros. The makers of clothing are kept busy, some that travel with us have never seen snow or known a chill wind in their lives. Many go barefoot here in the warm lands. Boots and hard shoes are made, fur lined, leather, woolen hose and cloaks. I will not lose anyone to the elements if I can help it.

Final preparations are made when a runner appears, breathless at our table. He cannot speak but thrusts a message to me.

I read it and undoubtedly my eyes widen as Tyrion gazes at me with raised brows.

I burst out laughing, I cannot help myself as I pass the message to Tyrion, who's face also splits into a wide grin.

Syrio too reads the message and says.." It appears the Whore has made a grievous error, nor did she anticipate being met on open ground by sixty-thousand Dothraki Screamers."

Thinking she would gain the upper hand by depositing the bulk of her troops on land to surprise us by sheer numbers at our gate.

She has made a fatal error, her last it seems as she has no power now, locked away in the Sept.

Nor did she anticipate the heat, the loss of men, fully armoured in the hot sun. They were not used to the heat. Their big chargers and destriers unable to cope with the desert sun unlike the lighter wild bred mounts of the Dothraki. Out of eighteen thousand men who were engaged by sixty-thousand Dothraki six-thousand died and the remainder to weak or wounded to fight are now being marched here, prisoners of war.

They will be here in four days.

What of the ships I wonder.

Another message arrives and we are informed several first and a few third and fourth sons are among the prisoners heading this way. I ask Tyrion of them and tells me a brief history of each. Several Tyrell and Lannister whelps are among their numbers. I see also a few Frey's as well.

" Do you intend to kill the Frey's or will we ransom them ? "

" What is your counsel, Tyrion ? "

It is then Sandor walks in to join us. His warm eyes betray nothing of his state of mind.

" It is my intention to ransom off the others for what we can get, we can fund our endeavours or it can go as repayment to the Iron Bank. "

" An even division I think is equitable ", from Tyrion.

" The Frey's however are another matter, them I will see dead, everyone of them. "

Sandor nods his shaggy head and scratches his chin, it must be contagious because Tyrion mirrors his movement as he scratches at the nub of his nose.

" Will they pay the ransom for the rest, though ? "

" I believe they will ", says Sandor, " If only to try and gain an upper hand in future negotiations or for information they feel they may be able to impart on troop size and movement."

" What are we to do with them in the meantime, the others, that is many mouths to feed."

" Simple, we will defeat the Whores crews, many will have sparse crews and virtually no warriors." " I think we will have another few thousand ships, perhaps enough for all to cross."

" Sandor, what are your thoughts on this ? "

" Offer clemency if they turn their cloaks, if not, kill them, we can't afford to feed almost twenty-thousand troops that are against us."

" Agreed ", from both Tyrion and I.

During evening meal and six days after Dany and Barriston left word comes that Vyserion has landed and with him a message from Dany.

All read it's contents and now we must wait for the captured troops and the whores fleet to arrive.

Tyrion had flown out earlier and had stated the fleet approaches while Sandor and I took flight over the desert and saw the prisoners being marched towards Quarth.

Coincidentally , they should arrive within a day of each other and we expect the Dothraki prisoners here by late afternoon tomorrow.

A section of the city is made ready to house the incoming masses.

Tyrion and Sandor solidify their plans and make ready to take their mounts to meet the Whores fleet, their crews nearly skeletal.

I go to Sandor and place a hand on his shoulder. He leans and places a light kiss on the back of my hand and nuzzles it briefly.

I feel a light flutter in my belly as our growing child makes his or her presence known. I smile creeps upon my lips as I rub my belly lovingly. Sandor places a large hand on mine and gives it a gentle squeeze.

Tyrion watches us through his mismatched eyes and clears his throat, to break us from our spell.

" We must needs prepare for we depart in a few hours."

With a sigh my husband grimaces slightly and nods, he stands and leads me to our rooms. As soon as the door is closed and latched we retire to our bedchamber. I leap into Sandor's arms. My legs wrap around his waist as I place savage wet kisses on his face. Taking in his scent in my tongue probing the recesses of his mouth.

His taste so familiar but with each hard kiss I want more. He sets me down briefly so I may remove my breeches I undo the laces of hs to release that glorious, thick cock of his. I bend to take him in my mouth as Sandor leans into the wall behind him. I grab his backside, digging my nails into his flesh, instead of shying away his hips grind and his breath becomes ragged. He tenses and pulls away to pick me up and put my back to the wall. His turn to place kisses, the scruff of three days growth of beard chaffing my cheeks and nipples, twin pink peaks rise and harden under his teeth and tongue.

He enters me with a quick thrust of his hips, his delicious depth and girth a warm tide lapping at my woman parts, he sets a quick pace and brings me to the point of my come only to back off and slow his pace, a hum, a throbbing building a white hot heat, it is a hungry beast wanting to devour me. I grab a fistful of hair on the back of his head and look into his eyes before grinding onto his shaft, the pleading in my eyes what my voice will not utter. In one fluid motion the wall is breached and we both ride the apex as light explodes behind my eyes as my husbands cock delivers me to the promised land of lust.

Sated, I nestle in the crook of his shoulder as his breathing evens he sets me gently down.

Now I am ready to face what comes, I think with a small tinge of guilt.

As Sandor laces his britches and and goes to his closet to remove heavier armour I too get dressed and don my full armour. e each help the other with ties and buckles. My hair in its customary, single, herringbone braid trails down my back. I don a half helm with nose guard and a small howling wolf at it's top as Sandor dons his new Hounds helm, remade , here in Quarth looking every bit as ferocious as the snarling original.

" My wife, are you ready ? "

" I am, my husband."

" Then let us get to it."

And we walk hand in hand to meet with Souzahn, Tyrion and Syrio on the terrace. Our dragons having been called and saddled, await us. They are as restless as the rest of us, snapping and huffing at one another, the only calm one is Vyserion but he has already seen battle I think to myself.

Syrio and the remaining Unsullied will man the walls and direct any support the dragons may need form the trebuchets and catapults. The armed troops patrol the city and port.

Sandor kisses me quickly breaks away to look at me and leans in for a lasting kiss. He strokes Ned's cheek and kisses him atop his mass of curls. Looks at me again and gives one of his crooked grins and mouths, " I love you ", and takes to Halcion's back and he and Tyrion and Souzahn are gone in the hot wind of leathery wings.

It begins I think silently to myself. Syrio and I turn to go inside, Summer ranging her neck and staring plaintively at her roost mates as they disappear. Souzahn goes to help motivate the prisoners on their march. That being done she will soar the skies and I will join her after giving final instructions to the ground troops.

I draw out Snow, the name I have given my Valyrian bastard sword Sandor gifted to me and run my thumb along it's edge.

" Valyrian steel does not lose it's edge as lesser steel, Sansa." I turn to see Syrio, his face split into a grin. " Worry not, we shall be victorious."

" I wish I had your confidence ", says I. " In time you will, it comes with age and wisdom." He winks and walks at a brisk pace to his task.

I bow my head ad pray to my father's God's the Old God's, though I am far away from the North I wish for strength and guidance. I raven sits on the the rail unafraid of the dragon. I stare intently at it and I become woozy and sway slightly, for a moment it seemed I was the raven and looking at...myself...


	49. Steel and Flame Chapter XLIX

****Dany****

Ravens come and are sent by the dozens it seems, confirming or refuting all that we have heard on the state of affairs in Westeros, including talk of Lady Stoneheart. I must find the source of these rumours, of a woman bereft of speech who passes judgement on any and all brought before her.

It is said she wears the remnants of a roughspun dress in house Tully colors, perhaps that of a servant but a Stark grey cloak covers her shoulders.

Cersei has been adjudged guilty of adultery, though her husband Robert Baratheon was dead during the dalliances she was convicted of, as a woman of noble birth her period of mourning lasts for one year, her punishment; a walk from the Sept to the Red Keep, nude, her head shorn of her crowning glory, for all to see. I wonder what the Septon would do had he also known her children, _all_ her children are base born, products of her perverse passion for her twin.

Even though I am a Targaeryn, I wrestle with myself at times..I know in our history, brother was wed to sister," To keep our bloodline of Old Valyria, intact", I find the very thought of being bedded by flesh of mine own, repulsive to say the least.

As the sun wanes towards evening and a light wind picks up and with it winter bares it's teeth. I survey the land, a first step to regain my birth right. In just one day, with the help of our troops a village that surrounded the Frey lands that was bereft of inhabitants now bustles with renewed life. Wisps of smoke emanate from chimneys that for months were cold and unused.

People are gathered in clusters, many eyeing the Unsullied and Dothraki, having never seen men of any hue other than the fair complected people of the North. The Horse Lords have behaved themselves, much to my surprise, no doubt through the greed of acquiring the gem that is Quarth should we be successful in our endeavours and knowing full well the dragons could be turned on them should they fail to honor their oaths.

Without being prompted a few men and women have volunteered to join our troops. All women but one are widows.

The devastation wrought by war is sickening. Almost every woman of childbearing years is pregnant, many victims of gang rapes, the father an unknown face in the night. The only thing the women know for sure were the colors or sigils their attackers wore. The answer is always the same.

Lannister's, Tyrell's, Frey's and _Bolton's_, the flayed man sigil evident in some of the more savage attacks. I hear tales of Roose's bastard, Ramsey and his, " kennel ", of bitch dogs and the women who gave the most sport are thus, " honored ", by having this perverse spawn of a Lord, naming his hounds after them. That their flayed hides grace his stolen halls of Winterfell.

I did not see fit to inform Sansa of this nugget of information, it would have done nothing but anger her and place upon her shoulders more weight. I will tell her when she returns to the land she called home, then that rage will serve her well, allow her to do what _needs_ to be done.

It is then an alarm is raised a group appears at the edge of the forest. They are escorted by some of our troops. I gain Drogon's back and see Barriston is already aloft and heading towards the group.

It is a motley, ragtag group. All ages and in all states injury. None are wound free, most starving or very nearly there. I speak with the groups representative, a man by the name of Haelyn, who informs me he and his household were fighting alongside Robb but did not join him at the Twins and begged Robb not to attend what has become known as the, " Red Wedding. "

They have fought minor skirmishes here and there but their forte seems to be guerilla tactics, strike and run style. Barriston and I question him at length and he informs of us there are many such bands of fighters who refused to bend a knee to Joffrey when Robb was murdered and are refusing to acknowledge Tommen as their King as well.

We tend to their wounded and are provide a hot meal to them, something the had not the luxury to enjoy in many months.

It is Barriston who asks after Lady Stoneheart. " Who is she, from where did she come ? "

****Haelyn****

In answer to his query he sends for a grey beard, bent with years but a fire still gleams in his eye. " Crae, tell the Silver Queen what you know of Lady Stoneheart. "

****Crae****

" Aye, m'lord."

" It were after the war broke out, yer Grace." " Rumours were spoke of 'round the fires and in the pubs of m'lord Beric Dondarrion and his band o men, them who sought the beast, Ser Gregor." " I seen with my own eyes a wounding , a grievous wounding that should have struck em dead yet up he rose after that burning man, Thoros of Myr mumbled words o power o'er em."

****Barriston****

" Yes ", from Barriston, " Now what of Stoneheart ?"

****Crae****

" Well, after, after those animal Frey's killed Lady Stark and chucked her inta the Trident, cut her throat they did, up rises this shade of a woman, she does not speak, her throat...It be cut, she judges you ya see, there is no secret to be kept from 'er..None at all."

" I was brought before 'er. " " She looked at me, she did with murky eyes that mighta been blue while she lived..."

****Barriston****

" What do you mean while she lived ?"

****Crae****

" Just that, a shawl was wrapped about her head and throat, she unwound it and...and..."

It is then he blanches and his dark eyes dart from person to person.

****Dany****

" It is then what ", I say in my calmest and most soothing voice, the one I used on my dragon's when they were but hatchlings.

****Crae****

" Her throat, yer Grace...Her throat was rent, cut so deep it was, I saw...I saw her spine beneath." " Nay, she cannot speak her throat be cut but she does not bleed, her eyes like that o one long in the water." " Laying upon 'er breast a pendant, one I have seen many a time when I journeyed to Winterfell. " " A pendant worn about the throat of Lady Catelyn Stark, it bore a Direwolf chasing it's tail with the Tully fish within."

Tears threaten to spill from the greybeard's eyes as he relates his sad tale.

****Haelyn****

" Give the Queen what Stoneheart gave to you, Crae ", prompts Haelyn.

****Dany****

The man rummages in a small carrybag attached to a belt at his narrow waist. He produces a tiny wooden box and opens it carefully to reveal bit of folded parchment, still sealed with a small daub of wax. I blink in amazement as the seal bears the Targaeryn dragon, not a Direwolf but a dragon. I break the seal and it appears to be a map of sorts, it also has one word.

" Sansa."

Barriston is peering over my shoulder as I thank Crae for his information. I cannot fail to note he is of elder years and should be comfortable by a fire surrounded by his grandchildren, not out roughing it in the wilds swinging a blade. I make a vow to myself that this war must end as quickly as we can muster it.

I motion for the scribe and murmur into her ear the message I want sent to Sansa...

****Sansa in Qarth****

I grasp a the doorjamb to steady myself after a vision or whatever that was I just experienced. This is not the first time something like this has happened to me but it is the first time it has been so vivid. I could swear I heard the Tern's wheeling above, smelled the salt air of the water below.

Perhaps I am losing my mind. I wish Sandor here here to confide in and comfort me. I hear Neds throaty squalls and go seek him out.

He is in Penny's arms, her soft coos of consoling as she nuzzles him swaying slightly on her small legs. I smile to her and stoop to relieve her in holding him. He burbles happily and unclenches his tiny fists to grasp at my armour.

The raven followed me indoors and quorks, bobbing his head and hopping about the table. He looks at me with beady black eyes and quorks plaintively at me.

" Quork, hop, quork, quork.

I feel lightheaded and start to sway. I try to hand Ned to Penny as I feel my legs give out beneath me and in the distance I hear Penny's high-pitched voice rise in alarm, " Your Grace, your Grace, help someone hel..."

It feels as though I am rushing at great speed into a funnel with a light like a small dot at it's end, the closer to the end the bigger and brighter the dot gets until it is a white hot light, brilliant and blinding and...

...I am flying though not on a dragon's back, I see out of my misplaced eyes the ebon wings beating a steady rhythm as I gain altitude. These eyes see better than mine own, I see the gnats as they buzz by and see schools of fish in the water below, I hear snatches of conversation from the people and bank to go lower. Colors are vibrant as a land on a ledge in the market section.

I turn my small feather covered head and bend it to the chatter below to hear snippets of bargains being struck or refuted.

Bored with the mundane conversation of the peddlers and haggling of customers I take to wing once more and seek Syrio. I find the Braavosi giving directions to armed men. I think to scare him and land on his shoulder in a flurry of black wings.

" Quork."

He misses not a beat only to turn and eye my black eyes with his brown to whisper, " Hello, your Grace. "

If I had lips they would be shaped in an, " O ", for my surprise.

He walks swiftly to a section of the wall currently unmanned. He waggles his fingers and I hop to perch on them, we now are face to face.

****Syrio****

" I was beginning to wonder whether or not you had the _Gift_, Sansa." " There are many names for this _Gift, _some call it skinwalkers, shapeshifters or _wargs. "_

****Sansa/Warg****

I am wondering if this is what Bran is and it seems the tiny Braavosi can read my mind. " No, Sansa, Bran is a _Greenseer, _the gift he possesses is of a different nature than yours."

I am silently thankful for I do not wish to live in the dirt, to have the creeping things weaving in and out of my hair, to be entrapped by the roots of trees and to be forever trodden upon by the world of men.

****Syrio****

" You must practice being a warg, Sansa. " "You must always have a care as well, your body will be as one sleeping with their eyes wide open and very vulnerable." " Go now, go back to your body because you have undoubtedly frightened anyone you were speaking with."

****Sansa/Warg****

In a rush of wings I take off and head for the rooms my small family and I share, Quork, quork my only recourse for speech.

I gain the table in my rooms once more only to be shooed away by a well meaning maid. I fly about the room and land on the uppermost rail of a window casing and look at my prone form being fretted over by Sam, Gilly, Penny and Maester Lorwren.

I blink and through heavy lids I see the worried faces of the aforementioned people. I try to rise only to be tutted and patted gently and hear words of comfort, " One mustn't strain yourself during your pregnancy your Grace ", from Maester Lorwren. It is then Syrio strolls into wink at me and say, " Our Sansa has discovered her gift."

From Gilly," About bloody well time, yer Grace, we was beginning to wonder."

****Sansa****

" You knew I was, was a...W-W-Warg ? "

" Gilly, is...Sensitive about things...Uncommon ", says Sam.

****Sansa****

My mind races with the implications, if I can fly like a bird on the wing, could I not also fly as I dragon...?


	50. All Quiet on the Westeros Front Chptr L

**Several days have passed since Dany & Barriston have questioned Haelyn & his man Crae**

****Dany****

" What say you to all we have heard, Barriston ? " " Much knowledge have we gained these past few days, I would know more of Lady Stoneheart, of the timbre of King's Landing and how the Northern Queen fairs across the sea."

" I long to march to King's Landing, to wrest the Iron Throne from another bastard's hands, to bring the Red Keep down around their ears, to restore the rule stolen from my line by the Usurper."

As if on command a messenger hurries to Dany, bowing slightly to present her with a sealed note, rolled, raven sent.

In Sansa's neat, flowery hand it says, " We have engaged the enemy, we are victorious, we come,Tyrion sends love, as do we all."

I smile wide handing the message to Barriston.

****Barriston****

" This is good news indeed, your Grace, by my estimation they should be here within ten days if the weather and winds are with them, though I am sure Lord Tyrion will make the trek solo to reunite with you ", I say with a smile.

" On another subject, we received a raven from the Bolton's, they ask for terms in joining the Queen's march to King's Landing, The Tyrell's and Lannister's have neither sent ravens to us."

" The GreatJon's men join us, more daily, our numbers here will swell to eight-thousand soon and if Bolton unites with us another six to seven thousand men can we add. "

****Dany****

" I am more than concerned with Bolton's about faces, Barriston, what is to say he will not turn his coat once again ?"

" What of his bastard spawn, Ramsey, he is nothing more than a mad dog who needs to be put down."

****Barriston****

" Aye, your Grace but seeing how Roose has named him his heir, killing him may not be our best course of action at this time." " The North has a saying, keep your winter friends close but your summer friends closer."

" My best advice would be to meet with Roose, here and observe him."

****Dany****

" Agreed, I would let him see for himself the dragons in action, lest he think we jest." " Did I not see a watchtower a mile or so from her, will not Bolton use the road it abuts ? " I would secret a few forces there and in the thick wood. I will not allow him to see all our numbers."

" I would see also how he intends to reign in his bastard, Sansa will settle for nothing less than his death. "

Ravens are sent to Harrenhal but none to Qarth, Sansa and the bulk of our troops come and with them, the Wilding woman, hopefully someone has appealed to her for aid in rallying the Wildings under our Banners.

My heart gladdens a little to know my Lord husband will join me in mere days. I have missed him greatly, his wit and counsel and I would be lying if I said I did not miss his skill in the bed chamber.

I wonder also how the sister of my heart fairs, does her pregnancy go well, how is Sandor and their Ned...

****Tyrion****

The captured troops are now outside our wall, Sansa and I go to meet them. She sits regally astride Summer's back, her eyes like the blue of the Wall in the North as she surveys the survivors. Her husband circles above as does Souzahn atop their respective mounts, gliding mere feet above the heads of our prisoners.

It worked to strike fear, some reduced to sobbing heaps, others spewing vomit, none keep their eyes ahead as all cast flinching gazes skyward. It is then Sansa slides from the saddle to land gracefully to the hot sand, looks to me and inclines her head.

" I am Lord Tyrion Lannister, Prince Consort to Danaerys Storm Born, Mother of Dragons and rightful Queen of the Andals. Beside me stands Sansa Stark~Clegane, Queen of the North and a Rider of Dragons. " " Hear her words, your life does depend upon them."

****Sansa****

" You have but one choice, fight for us...Or die." " I see proud sigils worn upon your breasts, including some houses that were my murdered father's bannermen, what say you men of war ? "

It is then I draw Snow from the scabbard as I walk to the end of the front rows of men. I place the blade in the sand and walk back from the direction I came, leaving a furrow in the sand.

" All of you that wish to live and fight for our cause, may cross this line, those that do not remain where you are."

Nearly all them men cross the line giving the dragons a wide berth of course. One young man with a mouth like a healing wound, wet and angry saunters forward to say, " That's an awfully big sword for such a pretty little thing as you, your _Grace_, how about seeing if you can wield it as a warrior or do you simply use it to cut furrows in the dirt like a field nag ?"

In answer I nod to one of the Dothraki who hands the youth a short sword, before he raises it I am on attack and slash, he barely deflects the strike and stumbles backwards his eyes widening and that ugly mouth pressed into a trembling line.

I continue to press him, he has not had the time to acclimate to Qarth's unrelenting heat as I have. His reactions slow by small degrees whereas I have yet to break a true sweat. I tire quickly of toying with him and feign a jab and twist the blade and direct it upward nicking his chin. Fear now peers from behind his eyes as he finds one last bit of energy to mount a feeble attack.

I answer by gracefully sweeping to the right as his blade descends into the sand and turn to bring Snow down upon his exposed neck to give him a final, wet kiss. His headless body slumps to it's knees and wavers before toppling chest first into ground, his blood gouts in a sticky fountain then ebbs to weak spurts and then trickles.

It is done. All those that stood with him now join their fellow captives, heads hanging low as the sweat gathers to soak their threadbare surcoats or tunics. Slowly we herd them forward to the now open gates of our city. We have enough time to meet the waterside threat head on with all but Souzahn, she will patrol within the walls on Sand.

As the last of the prisoners are marched inside the walls and into the Hales section of the city, with Ellsbeth leading the units of soldiers stationed there to keep order. The gates close with a rush of hot air that stirs up eddies of dust like small tornados brought to life that swirl and dance and die just as quickly.

There is no wind in the city behind the walls except in the upper levels. The stink of chamber pots and slaughtered meat ripe and cloying, makes a home in your nostrils that no perfume or incense can completely vanquish.

As we settle our new troops and tend the wounded and feed them I learn that many men are from the North and more than a few captain the ships making for our shores. It appears a last minute change in commands pulled some of Lord Davos men and switched them with men the Whore felt were loyal.

And off we go in a flurry of wings to meet this threat from the sea, though threat seems too strong a word. Whomever devised this plan undoubtedly had the utmost confidence that would we could not either marshal enough troops to war or could not formulate battle plans to defend ourselves and that the dragons were nothing more than a weak attempt at subterfuge.

I see half the fleet fly the Onion Ship of Lord Davos own sigil and all but eleven remaining ships fly either the Targaeryn Dragon or the Stark Direwolf.

The eleven ships fly the Lannister Lion or Tyrell Rose.

I bring the head of the man I slew, a minor Lannister, third cousin, on his mother's side, ( by marriage ) to Tyrion himself. As we observe from above that they have no dragon slaying equipment on deck I glide lower to toss the severed head on deck.

" Yield or die it matters not to me. " I am answered by a bolt whizzing by my head and the others are close enough to see, we all dive at the ships and as one release the dragons to do as they will as men jump ship as the wood and sails feed the hungry maw of flames that engulf them.

And that was that.

We began loading the ships as fast as we were able, grateful that so many had sea and battle lore. In three days time we were able to stow all the people, cargo and livestock. A small contingency of Dothraki and a city watchmen stay behind.

And we are off. Lord Tyrion begs off and spurs Wrath onto Westeros and his Queen.

Sandor, Souzhan and I set a slower pace so the ships are within sight of one of us. The offer to Syrio to ride a dragons back politely declined, he chose instead to stay aboard the lead ship.

We had received Dany's message that the Twins were taken and all adult Frey's reduced to ash, as it should be. I left a fugitive with nothing but a strong man beside me and the clothes on my back and a few meager belongings, I return now a Queen with a son and an army. Let us see what the Whore, the Bolton's, Tyrell's and Old Walder has to say now I think somberly.

Sandor and I not not a moments peace since we returned from herding the former war prisoners inside the walls of Qarth. I long for his touch, the feel of his embrace, the scent of him that drives me to distraction and the feel of him embedded deep within me.

****Sandor****

As we make our way to Westeros I make an effort to contain the giddiness I feel, at long last will a battle be joined, that I may prove my worth to my Queen once again. My pup lies nestled in her womb and grows stronger and larger everyday. Her sickness of morning has not been as harsh this time around, mayhap it is a little girl she will gift me with. For every child she bores for me will I love and cherish individually and as a whole.

I still wonder why of all men she chose me. I am ugly to behold and my temper when raised knows no succour on most occasions, lest I spill blood yet chose me she did, comes willingly to my embrace I think as my cock strains at the lacings of my breeches just thinking of her sweetness and her lover's embrace.

A small smile plays about my lips as the darker side of me lusts just as much for killing my wife's enemies, to hear their screams and feel the spray of blood across my face from an arterial slice. Though my sweet little bird has tempered me somewhat I am still a dog by nature and bask in the chaos and bloodletting of war.

At this pace and if the winds stay with us we will be to the shores of Westeros in less than eight days time. Which means Tyrion should have already landed three days ago.

****Tyrion****

As I gain the skies of Qarth for the last time I cannot say I am sorry. The only good to come of it besides uniting our forces was my sweet, Silver Queen. I go to her now, the wind at our back, a sack of drink and food stuff wedged between the saddles horn and my belly. The only lamenting I can think of is the lack of fresh fruits I enjoyed in the city that has been my home for the past months.

I know my wife and Barriston have gained their first victory and men flock to her banner and I am only slightly jealous Barriston is by her side rather than myself...No...That is a lie. I am insane with jealousy that he has gotten her undivided attention these past weeks and it is to his lips her lovely head is bent in conversation. I missed her, more than even I could admit to myself and the thought of seeing her, greeting her and yes, loving her. I miss the spice scent of her skin and the lilac and honey of her hair. Those beautiful violet eyes, large and knowing.

I start to hum and realize a smile is creeping slowly across my face, lips closed of course, it will not do to have bug shat smeared about my teeth, besides I think wryly, I'm not hungry.

****Varys & ... ****

" So, the Whores fleet for the most part has turned their coat and those that would not were slain ? "

" Yes your Grace, it would appear that is the case. "

" Can any of the Riders be compelled to turn from their present course ? "

" Doubtful, your Grace, they are of a united front and quite single minded. "

" And what of your ears elsewhere, has that which I sought been found ? "

" As we speak an emissary representing your interests is in negotiations, they will perhaps part with one but no more, not at any price."

" Very well..."


	51. Landfall Chapter LI

****Davos****

I am glad I have chosen this course of action, my friend and Lord of long years has lost his wits to that burning she devil that has bewitched him and robbed my Lord of his sanity and compassion all the while whispering Gods knew what into his ear, I watched, aye, I did for many months as my friend went from an honest, severe but just man do one whose heart has hardened and bent to war, capable of monstrosities and great evil, lo how I wish I could wrest him from that temptresses spell.

Instead I have turned my back to him inasmuch as his has done to reason and my counsel I hope only that he regains his sanity and casts that red witch from his side because if he does not, he too will burn and join his red god in the hellfire of a dragon's breath.

****Syrio****

Surprisingly we had fair seas and a tail wind, it seemed the Gods wished to see battle joined and aided us onward towards Westeros and war. There were no problems other than the sickness of sea suffered by Dothraki and Westeros' folk alike on the one day the wind and waves were slightly more choppy than is the norm.

I am glad I think somberly that Sansa has discovered her talent and each time she Wargs she becomes more adept at it. I know for a certain she has been practicing first with her own mount and with the other dragons. This is a scenario that had not occured to me but I think it a good thing.

By my estimation we should sight land just before dawn and relish the timing. Tis better to land, see and scout the terrain rather than to land in darkness. With nearly eighty-thousand troops it would be all but impossible to hide such numbers.

****Sandor****

The day greys toward dawn and Sansa, Souzahn and I are all astride our mounts, we can see in the distance the rocky coastline and a fleet of ships bearing Lord Davos Sigil and those of the Silver and Northern Queens. I spur Halcion to speed for a closer look. I see the faces of men I recognize both Dothraki and of Westeros as those that went with Barriston and Dani.

As I leap from Halcion's back to land with a deck jarring thud and stride with confidence to greet the men who will fight beside us and perhaps die to wrest the grasp of the Lannister's and Tyrell's from the Land. If you had told me a year ago that I would return a Dragon Rider, General in an army and...That Lady Sansa Stark, eldest daughter of Winterfell, would return to Westeros a Queen and a _Clegane_, I would have slew you for a liar where you stood.

I have seen the beauty who is my wife grow from an unflowered wisp to a woman, wife, mother, warrior, and queen. She has the cunning in battle of men three times her age and experience. She does not shy from blood-letting and I am impressed when she metes justice, it is by her own hand rather than rely on mine own blade. She is her father's daughter, in carriage and demeanor and I feel the Late Lord Eddard would be proud a Stark will regain Winterfell.

We must win the coming engagements, that is the only way to insure the safety of my Queen, her reign and that of my growing family. A secret part of me still hopes Ser Meryn Trant yet lives, the foul cretin, for striking little bird, for shaming her at court by making her nearly nude for all to see, will I kill him. I hope only my temper gets not the better of me so I make his suffering a lingering one.

My Queen joins me on the deck of the ship, greetings are again exchanged and we get to it. A raven is sent to the Twins, apprising Dani and Barriston of our immenent landfall. We will replenish troops lost these past weeks on the ships, supplimenting Lord Davos men.

It is in then a man comes forth bearng a Sigil upon his tunic unfamiliar to me...

****Sansa****

My back is ramrod straight as I take to the deck and stride with purpose laden steps to the knot of men gathered before my husband, I look each assembled man in the eye and see in theirs curiosity, appraisal and finally acceptance. " Your Grace ", their spokesman says.

" As you know I come to you as Queen of the North, I thank you all for the effort and blood you have shed and it is the first of many steps we will take together if we are to free our Land from the ever reaching hands of the Lannister's and Tyrell's."

I am greeted by nods of agreement by all but one man who rocks from heel to toe and cocks a gnarled and grey brow at me. I raise mine own to him in question and he spat upon the deck, sourleaf by the look of it, great I think silently to myself a drug addled fool must I now contend with as my lips pinch to a thin pink line.

Sandor's jaw clenches but his eyes have a bemused twinkle to them as he knows what comes to visit this leaf sucking fool.

" And your name, Ser, is ? "

****Crusty Old Bastard****

" Me name I never knew, were a foundling and reared shipboard from earliest memory, me shipmates called me bastard when I were young and now call me the crusty old bastard and worse, nor do you look old enough to be a queen nor wise enough to hold battle lore." He is a grizzled man of the sea, the sun and wind and salt has turned his skin to a leather and hair peeks out of his not quite long enough shirt as his great belly strains the rope holding up his pants. " Might be I put you over my knee and spank that narrow arse of yours."

There is no mirth in Sandors eyes now as he moves swiftly to cuff the foul mouthed sea rat about his head. Not to be detered he narrows his eyes first at Sandor, then to me and says, " That proves nothing more than your _dog_ is capable of defending his mistress. " It is then he lets a tremendous fart and I think I am grateful to be upwind as I swear those nearest him are holding their breaths, eyes watering.

****Sansa****

" Very well, then how would you like me to cut off your shriveled cock, with your own knife, using your own hand ? " He looks at me incredously and folds his arms over his fat belly and spats again on the deck. I know now what the stains are that speckle the deck like spots on a quails egg.

I go to Sandor and he steadies me as I...

****Warg****

His will attempts to fight me but after gentle coaxing he is mine to control. I withdraw the blade at his hip and cut the rope holding his pants that fall to the deck and am dismayed that I cannot see his/mine/our cock because of this great fat belly. I fumble around and find a bit of meat with his/mine/our right hand to find that his/mine/our stones drawn up no doubt out of fear but also from the chill air. He fights me again, this time in earnest thinking I truly intend to unman him and he is greeted by his left hand balled up to land with a thwack to his jaw that staggers him/me/us.

****Sansa****

I regain my own form in the strong arms of Sandor and his crooked grin. Crusty's eyes are wide and he apologizesfirst to me and then to Sandor to the smirks and guffas of the assembled men.

We will gain land shortly and we inform the assembled men of our plan to join our forces at the Twins adding four-thousand ships to Lord Davos and their command with full crews and supplies. The Dothraki and Unsullied will travel overland with us and several hundred will disperse upriver.

It is then a man bearing a Sigil upon his breast unknown to me edges slightly forward.

****House Asha****

" I am come to you with a message from Ashsa Greyjoy, she sends word that she will marshall what men she can from the Iron Isles, that she herself had mounted a rescue attempt to free her brother from Ramsey's clutches." " However, she is now a prisoner of Stannis and he marches on Winterfell with men of the Night's Watch and wildings as well as the men of the crags and hill tribes. " " Lady Brienne of Tarth is also held captive by Stannis."

****Sansa****

" Where is Stannis' Queen and the Princess Shireen, then ? "

****House Asha****

" They have taken up residence with the Night's Watch, your Grace."

****Sansa****

I decide then and there before the Twins we will take Dragonstone while it's Master is away and say as much. The ships are made ready the Captains who were on deck to greet and stratergize with me now return to their own vessels and we are underway to take Stannis seat while he trudges through snow and ice and I secretly wonder how their horses fair compaired to our sturdy, deep chested and hairy Northern breeds.

We take to the skies once more and meet with Syrio and inform him of what transpired aboard the ship and what are plans are now. He gives one of his bright smiles and his midnight curls bounce in rythym to his vigorous nods as he agrees with the altered plans. Another raven is sent to tell Dani of our slight delay. Both Sandor and Syrio agree it will not be hard to convince the skeletal force that remains in Dragonsone to yield the Keep to our control. Sandor and Syrio had both been there and agree a force of perhaps three-thousand should be garrisoned there to hold it.

We will only lose a few days and I can fly immediately to the Twins once it is taken. Sandor and Souzahn will fly escort to our land-bound troops while I go on ahead with a contingency of Dothraki, her Unsullied no doubt will be pleased to be near her once more...

A day and a half from the meeting aboard Lord Davos fleet ship we circle Dragonstone and demand entry. The doors of the Great Keep groan in protest and are opened wide, the arms of those inside tossed half hazardly to the ground, the eyes of the occupants wide with terror and resignation. An elderly Maester totters to greet us as does the Captain of the Guard another elder fellow with only one rumey eye.

The faces of the men and women and children are gaunt and filthy, most on the verge of starvation, I realize Stannis had no intention of returning here, instead planning to take up the Iron Throne as is his want. He left very few provisions it seems a few rangy chickens, the fastest no doubt and a dozen or so lean pigs snuffle past.

One young boy with a sheen of snot running from nose to lip edges closer and asks if I am the mother of dragons to which I reply that I am not but a Stark of Winterfell wife now to Sandor Clegane. He looks at me thoughtfully and cocks his head to the side and tells me that makes sense to him as dogs and wolves are closely related or so says the Maester.

I smile and tousle his hair wondering if that was a good idea as he is most likely lousey and make a mental note that this Keep will be scrubbed from top to bottom the infested shorn of their locks and above all else _fed_.

I instruct the Maester that this seat is to be held for and relinquished to Lord Davos Seaworth on his return from patrolling the coastline.

****Aged Maester****

" Will your Grace be staying in residence here for the nonce ? " " The rooms have been kept ready for the... Family's return."

****Sans**

I notice with no small amount of satisfaction he left out the, " royal " though I doubt it was out of respect for me.

I instruct who shall lead the garrison I will install here after of course consulting with the elder, one eyed Captain, I learn his name is Jak. Once satsfied of the arrangements of Dragonstone I take to the air to rejoin my Lord husband, son and troops.

I gain a height, unreachable by the dragon slaying munitions I know Westeros has in their arsenal and relish in the frigid air, my scarf wound tightly about my neck and face lest my very breath itself be seared from the cold of a land locked in winter's grip. The rest of me stays warm enough for dragons put off a great deal of heat, more so if they are on the wing the exertion no doubt adding to their internal warmth.

I unwind my scarf to stuff jerked meat into my mouth and wash it down with a mouthful of watered wine. The life that swells my belly flutters briefly and nestles in my womb and remains inert for most of the day. It nears dark and I must needs to relieve myself and wish to do so before darkness truly falls, I espy a small clearing and seeing no firelight I guide Summer to land, hop off and squat in the shadow of her bulk. I think wryly I am a queen yet make water in the field like a dog.

I hop into the saddle and gain the air having been on the ground less than three minutes by my estimation and perhaps five hours after night has fallen I see the light from many campfires set in the pattern of a circled X, the sign we had designated to be our own and known only to the Riders, Grey Worm and Swift Foot.

I land to be greeted by smiling Souzahn, I swear she has sprouted three more inches since we left Qarth. Sandor strolls up with small Ned nestled in the crook of his arm, his bright eyes peeping from his hooded and fur lined jumper. Sandor gives me a toothy grin and wink as I rush into his outstretched arm to place a long, wet kiss, one I hope is a promise of more to come...


End file.
